Drabbleicious
by Cassprincess
Summary: Puckleberry drabble fills are highly addictive.  Warning: If you want your life to stay your own and like your wrists carpal tunnel free, please do yourself a favor and don't stumble on the PuckRachel drabble meme.  It eats lives.  You've been warned.
1. Chapter 1

Good evening! I'm going to post all of my completed Puckrachel community drabble memes here from now on. They are highly addictive to read and to write. I look forward to being able to fill many more.

Just a note, I will be updating Fuickleberry either tomorrow or Tuesday. yay!

This first one is prompted from SMC27 "Some people will always hate you, no matter what. They are called stupid bitches." Thanks for the awesome prompt!

Have a wonderful night!

* * *

Here's the thing…everyone _thinks_ that Noah Puckerman can't handle a girl crying. He's a bad ass, right? He doesn't deal with girly, weeping, hormonal emotions. His body is chock full of testosterone and people just know that there isn't any possible way for him to deal with a sobbing woman.

People don't know shit.

His dad abandoned his mom when she was three months pregnant with his younger sister. Basically he's been dealing with crying women since he was eight years old. He felt terrible the first two times he saw his mom crying her damn eyes out and then he figured out that if he sang her a song or recreated her favorite scenes from Gene Kelly movies, she'd giggle and wipe her tears away and be fine. And when his baby sister would cry, he figured out the exact combination of goofy voices and stuffed animals that would get her cooing and laughing. And when that hot ass desperate housewife crumpled into a mess of tears, he intrinsically knew what would turn that frown upside down.

So not only can he deal with crying chicks, He fucking OWNS it.

So after the 2010 Regionals competition, he's the one to find Rachel crying in a corner after the disastrous results. Her nose was bright red from wiping it at least a million times in the span of fifteen minutes. Her eyes were cloudy and bloodshot as tears endlessly leaked from the crinkled, sad corners of her eyes. He knew the other kids in the Glee club had turned tail and run away immediately when faced with this huge ball of fucking intense emotion. He probably should have as well, but instead he sat down next to her silently and waited for her sniffling to quiet before offering a very quick speech,

"Vocal Adrenaline are a bunch of losers with wires running where their fucking veins should be. They're nothing and they didn't deserve this. You deserved this. We did. The judges were assholes. Some people are going to push us down no matter what. And you know what we call those people, Berry?"

Rachel sniffed in response and looked at him questioningly, her big brown doe eyes chock full of a mixture of sadness and desperate hope at his next words.

"We call those people stupid bitches, Berry. Say it."

"Noah-I-"

"SAY IT, dammit!" Puck demanded. "Scream it!"

"They're…they're stupid bitches," Rachel whispered.

Puck smirked and ruffled her hair obnoxiously as he rose and began to walk away, leaving Rachel considerably brighter than she had been before, her cheeks retaining the flush that the swearing had induced.

The years rush by, as the years tend to do. They make it to Nationals the next year and don't even show up on the radar. He swears that he hears Rachel mutter 'stupid bitches' when the winners are announced, and he couldn't be prouder. For his senior year, they make it to Nationals and they tie for second place. Lose by exactly half a point. Mike Chang and Finn actually had to hold him in his place on the stage, as he was sure there was a conspiracy going down and he was going to beat the piss out of someone in order to find out how that other team managed to give blowjobs to every judge in order to win. They take their still overly large trophy and make it off stage where Rachel has organized their team.

Despite being second best in the nation, the entire club, save Rachel and Puck, are crying their eyes out in mourning. Even the little freshman who had joined that year and would no doubt come back to Nationals eventually and take home the HUGE trophy were crying as if someone had just told them their Nana had kicked the bucket. Rachel cleared her throat and commanded everyone's attention, even Puck, who had silently been plotting to completely destroy every single one of the judge's cars.

"We did our absolute best, everyone. Rest assured, we can hold our heads high, because believe me, we did not lose first place by half a point," Rachel assured them, her confidence so steely and true that each one seemed to sort of believe it. "We were the best out there. We are the best that any of that audience had ever seen and the judges know it."

"We didn't win, Rachel," squeaked a freshman. "They didn't think we were the best, even though we were. Why would they hate us and not give us first?"

"Some people will always hate you, no matter what," Rachel insisted strongly, a world of experience forming her words. She smiled indulgently at the freshman for one split second before her mouth formed a hard and cold line before vehemently muttering, "They are called stupid bitches."

"Rachel!" Schue admonished.

"S'true!" Noah insisted strongly, glaring at the club director. He then smirked at Rachel, who had outgrown her flat out aversion to profanity, but she was still blushing. "STUPID BITCHES can't hear right or can't tally points out right. We were first. And we know it. It's all that matters. Stupid bitches can jump off a cliff, right Berry?"

Rachel let a small smile set on her face before she turned to the freshman and demanded, "New Directions, we call these judges stupid bitches. Repeat after me please, Those stupid bitches…"


	2. Chapter 2

For Sara345's prompt "Can you say that a little louder? I don't think they heard you back in Lima" Slightly modified to fit properly.

* * *

"Noah? Would you like to accompany me into Macy's? They may have appropriate dresses that fit the budget that Daddies gave me."

"Sure."

Rachel bites her bottom lip slightly as they walk into the store quietly. They were in Cincinnati for the 2011 Regionals Competition, and Schue had scheduled a free Friday afternoon for the Gleek's to relax at the mall. Kurt, Mercedes and the Cheerios were doing anything _but_ relaxing as they zoomed through the large shopping mall as if they were auditioning for Shop Til You Drop or the Amazing Race or something. Tina and Chang were darting between Hot Topic and the Sanrio Hello Kitty store, in their own words, "chinking out".

_Racists_. Rachel blew out an exasperated breath. Noah had declined the rest of the Glee boy's offer to hang out at the arcade in order to escort her around the mall, gripping onto her hand with a gentler force than normal. She had been half-heartedly shopping for a dress, hoping to find something miraculously beautiful and equally as miraculously cheap for the junior prom. Her shopping budget had been dramatically reduced when her father's realized that she was spending 85% of the money on contraceptives in the last four months she and Noah had been dating.

She squeezed his hand a little as she stopped to peruse a rack of sequined gowns. She thought he would drop his grasp on her hand, but he didn't and she looked at him curiously, wondering what on Earth was going on with her boyfriend. She tried to meet his gaze and was surprised to see it was trained on a small family walking through the store, two young parents and a small baby girl, not quite old enough to walk on her own.

…Regionals. Of course! Rachel couldn't even believe her own forgetfulness and unabashed ignorance. Beth would be turning one next week. She felt Noah's hand squeeze hers as the small family walked past them. Her heart broke for him as her mind scrambled to find a direct avenue to lifting her boyfriend's spirits.

Normally lifting Noah's spirits would involve her being naked. Or even showing a bit of shoulder…sometimes he would perk up if she merely opened her mouth a certain way. They were in a public place however, and she _refused_ to engage in sexual endeavors when they were set to perform in less than twenty-four hours. She had discovered two and half months ago that Noah's Glee club performances went from a solid nine to a completely amazing ten if she could get him to abstain from sex for more than 48 hours.

He would laugh at her and call her heartless under different circumstances, in his proud and amused sort of way. But there was no way she would lose to Vocal Adrenaline this year. Noah had to be at the top of his game in order for him to nail his solo verse in their showstopper. She furrowed her brow as he reached out and picked up a cherry red sequined mini-dress and she smiled.

"Want me to try this one on?"

"Yes please," Noah smirked, although his expression was still slightly less mirthful and deviant than usual.

They made their way to a dressing room, Noah slouching in one of the overstuffed ottomans by the three-way mirror as Rachel went into a dressing room. She looked at the sequined dress on the hanger and sighed slightly, when suddenly her mind clicked into place. She beamed suddenly before fidgeting in place, playing with the button on the front of her fashionable skinny jeans. (She of course shelved the skirts when she was trying to keep Noah's hands out from underneath them).

"Oh no!" she whined.

"You okay in there babe?" Noah's voice carried into the small dressing room.

"My zipper is stuck…Noah, would you be a dear and please come in and assist?" Rachel pleaded in her soft, dulcet tones that she _always_ used to get what she wanted from him. Usually it was to get him to watch iCarly reruns or recreate old dance movie sequences in her backyard.

He hauled himself off of his comfortable seat and walked towards the room, a small chuckle in the back of his throat, "Babe, you don't have to use your iCarly voice in order for me to get you undressed."

"What can I say, you are the expert in this situation, Noah," Rachel smiled sweetly as he squished his body into the dressing room with her. She grinned in spite of herself when he dropped to his knees in front of her. His hands went towards her buttoned jeans and she moaned loudly and dramatically, "Oh Noah!"

He was suddenly very speechless as he looked up at her with a gaping mouth, although his expression clearly read _What in the holy fucking fuck?_ He unbuttoned the jeans and she let out a loud cry, "Oohhhhh! Yes…that's good!"

"Rach!" Noah muttered, his lips turning upward into a heavenly smirk. His girl was the effin SHIZ. His fingers went to her zipper and pulled on the little metal tab ever so gently.

"Don't TEASE me, Noah…please, you know what I want!" Rachel cried out in the most accurate impersonation of a porn actress ever. Noah had never been more proud of his girl than at that very moment. "Give it to me, Noah! Unfff….yes!"

His laughter started in soft chuckles and with every porny and dramatic shout of ecstasy that fell from Rachel's cooing and moaning mouth, the laughter became louder and louder, until he was literally shaking in front of her, his sides aching with the uncontrollable giggles pouring from his previously morose self.

"ALMOST THERE…almost there! YES!"

Rachel punctuated her declaration with her hands slapping against the dressing room wall.

"Get it Noah!"

Another slap echoed as Noah inched her zipper down. He tried to control his chuckles as he looked up as her Oscar-worthy performance came to a satisfying conclusion.

"Oh God…thank you. Thank you so much, you're the best in the world. The best that ever was. The best that ever will be. You, Noah Puckerman are a god among men!"

"Glad to be of service," Noah grinned, getting to his feet. He kissed her lips soundly before turning and opening the dressing room door, where ten shocked faces stood on the other side. He shifted uncomfortably as Rachel squeaked in embarrassment behind him, burying a suddenly red face into his back. He shrugged at the Gleeks who had gathered in their dressing room and explained, "I was helping her."

"Can me and Santana help Rachel next?" Brittany asked hopefully. "I really think that you shouldn't be called the best in the world if I didn't get a turn first."

"Jesus, Man-hands, could you do that a little louder? I don't think they heard you back in Lima," Santana laughed, beaming with pride as Rachel leveled a still shamefully embarrassed glare back at her.

"I gotta go to the bathroom," Finn nervously squeaked, before walking stiffly out of the dressing room.

"I need to shower, now," Kurt cringed, grabbing Mercedes who in turn grabbed Quinn as they fled the dressing room.

"Let's go back to Hot Topic," Mike ushered Tina away. He whined, "You said if Rachel caves and gets sexy fun times with Puck, then you'd give me back the sexy fun times too!"

"Uhm…" Sam shrugged, staring between Puck and Rachel. "Guess you're not gay after all."

"I like the va-jay-jay, dude," Puck rolled his eyes watching as Sam flipped him the bird and laughed on his way out of the dressing room with Artie. He smirked at Santana and Brittany as Rachel finally stopped using him as a human shield. He couldn't quite focus on what happened in the next few moments. He just knew that in the matter of half a second, Brittany and Santana had man-handled him out of the tiny dressing room and had shut themselves in with his girl.

"Our turn," Santana laughed evilly.

"Santana Juana Lopez! That is not in the least bit-Brittany, get your hand OUT of there this instant!"

"It's only fair. You can't give out awards without letting everyone compete. This is America, afterall," Brittany insisted.

"Noah! HELP!"


	3. Chapter 3

For sweetkaitlyn's Zombieland prompt "You are like a giant cock blocking robot...like, developed in a secret fucking government lab."

Warning filthy language. Also rampant racism. I'm a self hating JewAsian? Sorry.

* * *

"Sup dude."

"Yo, Other-Asian."

"I hate your Jew-face."

"Noted. Can you take a look at my math homework for me?"

"Only if you'll balance my checkbook. You're so good with money after all."

"Can do, Changster. Hey, I was wondering, I was watching your Uncle Bruce in Return of the Dragon the other day, and I was wondering if you could get an autograph for me?"

…

…

…

"You boys are incorrigible. I cannot understand how you consider this behavior _friendship_."

Puck smirked at Rachel's declaration and grabbed her hand, pulling her to him and kissing her lips very softly. He pulled away and smirked at her in his specific self-assured way as she dreamily walked away saying, "I'm going to ballet, but I'll see you later tonight, Noah."

Mike watched Rachel walk away and rolled his eyes at the sappy look on his friend's face. He kicked at Puck's shins and got his attention. He raised one eyebrow and said, "So, what, today is like, officially the eight day mark?"

"Yeah, we've officially beat our personal best," Puck nodded proudly. He and Rachel had never lasted more than seven days in the last three years of high school. The shortest relationship lasted fifteen minutes before they had shrieked each others heads off and broke up. The previously longest had been exactly seven and a half days before Quinn had decided to mess with Rachel's head about his faithfulness. Bitch.

"Coolio," Mike nodded. He smirked and said, "Hey, remember back in freshman year when you made out with Brittany when she and I were dating?"

Puck's eyes widened imperceptibly and he looked up at Chang with the slightest hint of curiousity, "Vaguely?"

"Really? Cause I sort of remember it REALLY clearly. Huh. Weird," Mike shrugged, walking away.

Puck watched him walk away, his heart going cold. Chang had just declared war. And even if Puck was a total badass, he couldn't help but squirm slightly in fear. Fuck. His. Life.

That very night, Puck's worst fears were realized. Rachel's dads had traveled to Pittsburgh on a business conference/couples vacation. It was going to be the greatest night in the world. He was going to set up shop in Rachel Berry's panties, _finally_. He could tell because she totally made ordered him chicken parm for dinner. She never ordered meat for him. He was SO getting laid.

*Knock Knock*

"Michael? Oh, Michael! What's wrong? Please, come in, come in…"

Mike Chang. MOTHER FUCKING FUCKER.

"Tina…said that…she thought Artie was a better singer, and I-I just..."

Rachel smiled sadly and shrugged, "Not to demean your completely average singing abilities, Michael, but you aren't as good as a singer as Artie is…"

"OH GOD SHE'S GONNA LEAVE ME!" Mike wailed.

"No, no, we'll work on it…right now. Let me go and get a fresh notebook and we'll start working right now on improving your vocal skills. Never fear, Michael. Artie may have inherent musical ability that rivals many a boy band member, but we will work and never stop until Tina is officially impressed and wooed by your amazing singing prowess!"

Rachel ran up to her room to grab a notebook and Puck glared at his friend from the table as he viciously stabbed his chicken parm. Mike merely laughed, held up his arms crossed in front of him in an X shape as he chuckled, "BLOCKED JEW BITCH!"

The next time they had an opportunity to be alone together was three weeks later. They were staying at a hotel overnight after winning Sectionals. Schue had tried to set down ground rules, but the Gleeks were having none of it, and they had divied up the rooms according to their couplings and needs. Rachel was currently writhing atop him in his hotel bed, wrapped up in something lacy and definitely rippable. This was foolproof. Chang wouldn't be bothering him tonight, he had his own little lady to take care of.

*Knock Knock*

"Ignore it baby…" Puck pleaded as Rachel froze atop him.

"Rach! I need your help!"

Tina Cohen-Chang's pleading voice drifted through the door to their hotel room. Rachel slid quickly off of Puck and the bed and wrapped herself securely in her dressing robe. She opened the door and Tina had her hand and was dragging her from the room in mere seconds. Puck growled as Chang ran up to the door, making an X with his arms and squealing,

"Blocked Puckerman-steinberg!"

And then he was shrieking through the halls as he ran as fast as he could from a murderous Puck.

Two months. TWO FUCKING MONTHS AGO, Rachel had been ready. Eighteen attempts later and Chang was the cock blocking champion of the mother fucking world.

Quality time at the lake? Turned into a Glee Club bonfire.

"Blocked GRIPHOOK JEW GOBLIN!"

A rainy day afternoon in an empty Puckerman household? Somehow Finn had needed help with a flat tire on the side of the road. He saw Chang hiding in the bushes on the side of the road wearing cammo and holding a dart gun.

"BLOCKED JEW-JEW-BEE!"

Prom night? The entire Glee Club was arrested. Not for something cool like having a majorly alcoholically fueled party. For jaywalking. The next day when they were let go on their own reconnaissance, Chang was standing by his Uncle, who just so happened to be Sherriff Chang. They both flashed him the X.

"BLOCKED JUVIE JEW!"

Fireworks show by the lake? His hands had been in her fucking panties. And suddenly they were bombarded with a million whirring firecrackers. Dastardly Asian bastard. Puck made sure Rachel was safe in his truck before rushing into the nearby wooded area and miraculously finding his supposed friend.

"BLOCKED YOU INGLORIOUS BASTARD!"

"Dude!" Puck bellowed. He stopped himself from smashing his friend's face in and took a deep breath. "You are like a giant cock blocking robot...like, developed in a secret fucking government lab."

"Damn right." Mike smirked.

"I'm really sorry that Brittany tricked me into making out with her freshman year. That sucked," Puck acknowledged. He held out his fist and Chang bumped it automatically. "We cool now?"

"Yeah…cool. Have fun with Rachel. I'll see you next week for X-box?" Mike smiled good-naturedly.

"Yeah, See ya Chang," Puck nodded as Mike slinked away ninja style into the shadows. He raised a devious eyebrow. "I'll see you, you Asian bastard."

"Yes, Mike, right there…yes!" Tina breathlessly moaned.

The door to the janitor's closet suddenly was ripped open, letting the harsh light of day filter in on Mike and Tina as they ceased and desisted their heavy petting.

"Sup bad drivers? I need your help with fixing my computer. Also, Rachel needs a mani/pedi, and I heard you guys rock at that. And damn, Chang. Your penis is way bigger than most Asians. That's at least two to three inches of wood you got there."

Tina rushed from the closet in embarrassment as Mike quickly adjusted himself and glared at Puck, who was holding his arms in a crossed X shape.

"BLOCKED JACKIE CHANG! Don't EVER mess with Puckzilla!"


	4. Chapter 4

This got seriously long! I love pranks. I should have written a Fuickleberry chapter tonight, but I promise it will be up by Tuesday. I couldn't resist this prompt.

Prompt from Rockbandstar: Girls vs. Guys prank war. Rachel and Puck are the 'captains' which leads to some seriously intense trash talking.

* * *

"Explain yourself, Schue!"

"Yeah, go ahead and try to explain yourself, _Will_. Although there are no words known to man that can get you out of this one. You're going to have to finally call on the mystical powers of your incredibly well-oiled and creepy hair. I have it on good authority that you're hiding a nest of Pokemon-esque monsters up there…"

Will Schuester blew out a slow and exasperated breath as Sue continued her rant and Figgins continued to try and get some sort of explanation out of him. How could he explain this? It had all started out as a sure-fire way to unite the club nine months ago. A little friendly competition had worked before, he thought it would work again.

He couldn't have been more wrong…

* * *

"And that's how the 1994 Glee Club managed to pull off the best prank of all time…"

Will leaned against the piano with the slightest hint of smugness on his face as all twelve members of his Glee club looked up at him in disbelief. He had just recounted the epic Glee prank of '94. He had meant for it to be a motivational tool. The group had once again split into two, Cheerios and Jocks on one side, Gleeks on the other. Poor Sam had been stuck firmly in the middle, unable to chose between his teammates and new girlfriend Quinn and the Gleeks who had been so welcoming and _awesome_. He and Artie regularly conversed in Na'vi for cripe's sake. This whole Glee deal would be perfect if everyone could just get along.

"I gotta admit it Senor Schue, that's pretty badass," Puck smirked.

"Yeah, its nice to hear about back in the day, when Glee Club wasn't a slushy-able offense," Mercedes rolled her eyes. "If only we could all be old like you and have lived through the Glory days."

Will furrowed his brow, letting the old comment slide. He thought for a moment and said, "I don't see why you guys can't recapture the glory days…"

"Are you suggesting that we pull a prank on the school?" Rachel questioned rapidly, her brow furrowing until a large crease appeared between her eyebrows. "That seems highly unethical."

"I'm not saying anything…or encouraging anything," Will held up his hands in overtly feigned innocence. "But if you were to do something…I would maybe call someone a winner when all was said and done. I know you guys like free dinners at _Breadsticks_."

"Oh, you losers are so going down," Santana howled.

"We split up! Boys versus girls!" Sam interjected suddenly, not even taking notice as Schue eased himself out of the room with a satisfied grin. "It's only fair…unless, you know, you girls are scared that you can't complete."

"Are you challenging us?" Quinn scoffed cutely at her boyfriend of less than a month.

Sam shrugged and nodded his head slightly. The entire room erupted into taunting and catcalls between the sexes, with the exception of a thoughtful, yet nervous Rachel Berry and a silent Brittany who was slowly stalking towards Sam. She stood in front of him silently and in a split second her hand swept outwards, smacking the side of Sam's face with a heavy glove.

"Britt, what in the hell?" Mike guffawed as Sam stood dumbly in front of the tall blond cheerleader.

"That's how you challenge. I saw it in a movie," Brittany insisted before flouncing over to the side of the room the girls were cautiously gathering at.

"Brittany, I'm very impressed that you watched through the Netflix suggestions I made for you!" Rachel beamed.

"Colin Firth is so hot that I've started stalking him. His people have contacted me about keeping my distance from England," Brittany admitted with a small smile.

"What in the effffff," Puck complained in a bored tone to Finn who smirked.

"The girls are going down," Finn nodded.

"They're too busy thinking about Colin Firth rolling around in a fountain," Artie smirked He got five confused stares from the other men in the room and he shrugged, "Brittany made me watch it the last time I went over to her place."

"What makes you ugly motherfuckers think that you won't be the ones with your asses spanked?" Santana demanded.

"Really Mike, you don't have it in it to win it sweetie," Tina smiled at her boyfriend.

"Please, we have Puck!" Mike laughed. "I'm going to have to buy bigger pants, because we're all getting unlimited breadsticks and chicken-feet-free-salad! Holla!"

The boys laughed and Puck nodded his head at all the Glee girls with ultimate supremacy and cockiness. Quinn arched an eyebrow at her ex-boyfriend, baby's daddy, current boyfriend and all of the other Glee boys and pushed Rachel to the front of the their group.

"You're forgetting who we have," she said in that cool, confident, soft voice that never failed to strike fear into the hearts that dwelled within the McKinley Walls. "We're going to win this."

"Please!" Puck rolled his eyes, staring down at Rachel as she fidgeted ever so slightly. "What's little miss short skirt gonna do? Bust out ear drums as a prank?"

Rachel's eyes narrowed ever so slowly at the overly cocky boy. She didn't speak up and Finn chuckled a little. Sure their break-up had been amicable, but she would seriously consider a decent round of physical violence at that point because he was _clearly_ laughing at her.

"Girls?" Rachel wondered softly.

"Yes boss, we're totally ready for your bidding," Santana arched an eyebrow the boys' way, where everyone of those idiot buffoons had stopped laughing except for Finn and Puck. Morons.

"We have storyboarding to do," Rachel flounced out of the room, ignoring the way Puck's laughter only intensified. She didn't care how many rules she would have to break. She was going to make sure that laughter died in his throat.

* * *

"DUDE."

Puck startled awake at the chemistry lab table he had decided to nap on. He wiped drool from his mouth and said, "What-huh? Sup?"

Chang was standing at the door with a hysterically laughing Sam. Mike looked seriously petrified. "You know when you said that this prank thing would be a breeze and we'd have to like, saran wrap toilet seats to win?"

"Dude, stop doubting me. They made Rachel Berry their leader. They're going to crash and burn!" Puck waved his friends away and settled in for Nap, Round Two.

"Figgins is evacuating the school," Sam stopped laughing finally, clutching at his sore sides. "You should really come up to the third floor and see why…"

Puck lazily got up and followed the mirthful Sam and the fearful Chang. They made it to the third floor main corridor, where the thumping sounds of bass were practically vibrating the lockers. Puck's eyes widened at the suddenly delicious sights in front of him.

"Noah, I'm so glad you could join us!"

Puck's eyes popped out of his head as Rachel Berry waved at him from the opposite end of the hallway. She then took a running start and launched herself on the slip and slide that was set up in the third floor hallway. She whopped in delight as she reached the end, popping up to her feet.

And holy mother of fucking god, she had been wearing a white t-shirt. His eyes darted momentarily away from her neon pink bra that was clearly showing through her soaked white t-shirt and spared a glance to confirm his suspicions before quickly going back to her bra. All of the Glee girls were wearing white t-shirts. And they had all taken multiple trips down the slip and slide.

"How did you guys-"

"Eyes up here, Noah. My _eyes_ are UP HERE!" Rachel enunciated very clearly, her voice raising to higher decibel. She beamed a huge smile at him when he finally met her eyes. "I'm certainly sure you're wondering how we managed this. I assure you it's all completely legal. Permission slips were procured, a legally binding document was signed by Principal Figgins. Although he wasn't incapacitated in any way at the time of signing, he may not have really understood what he was signing when I was explaining my grand plan of promoting school spirit."

"He's aware now," Santana grinned evilly as she finished yet another slide down the hallway.

"Yes, the school is being evacuated, except for those of us with signed permission slips and legally binding contracts," Rachel smiled sweetly.

"There's a sex riot!" Tina squealed, pushing Mike away as he tried to cover up his girl's chest area. "Everyone wants in, and they totally started a riot. We win."

"HEY! No one wins, we didn't even go yet!" Puck insisted angrily. He took one last look at Berry's fucking _awesome_ bra before he gripped Chang's shoulder and pushed him and Sam from the room.

Sam pouted and called out while reaching in vain for a laughing Quinn, "But I wanna slip and slide!"

* * *

Rachel knew it had to be coming. She just knew. She could practically see the gears in Noah Puckerman's head whirring and spinning. She thought that she could vaguely smell smoke as well. She shouldn't be this worried. She had legally caused thousands of dollars in damage to the school. Even Mr. Schue had taken a few runs down the slip and slide. Certainly the girls would be the winners.

The girls were sitting in the gymnasium, waiting to perform the national anthem before the pep rally. Coach Sylvester winningly introduced them as her fabulously talented Cheerios and the mercy flush Hangers-on. Once everyone had obtained their note they took off into a lovely acappella version of their country's anthem when very suddenly thousands of small rubber balls fell from the sky.

"It's raining bouncy balls inside! It's like Heaven!" Brittany squealed jumping around and batting at the incredibly bouncy balls.

Pandemonium was unleashed as the population of McKinley High began a bouncy ball war, pelting them at each other and bouncing as many of them as they could catch. The girls ran and ducked for cover under the bleachers and Mercedes actually growled.

"I think one of those dang balls chipped my tooth!" she complained.

"You get used to it after a while," Santana smirked. She gripped Rachel's shoulder and said, "Next step, I'm not letting them get the last word in, Treasure trail. Whaddya got?"

Rachel looked up to see Noah grinning down at her from the rafters, _still_ emptying boxes of super balls from high above. She narrowed her eyes and muttered, "Never fear, Santana. I have a lovely melody of ideas ready."

* * *

"Good practice, Tinkerberry," Puck pushed Rachel's shoulder slightly as they exited Glee together. "I'm liking your shimmy and shake during the Dirty Dancing song medley."

"Why thank you, Noah!" Rachel grinned. "I must commend you as well on your excellent practicing. You've corrected that problem where you're stepping to early on the five. I knew that if you applied yourself correctly, you could attain close-perfection."

Puck shrugged and raised an always too sinful eyebrow at her and said, "I apply myself correctly at all sorts of shit, Tink. You should let me show you."

Rachel rolled her eyes and said nothing as she gathered her books necessary for that evening's homework. He waited for her and they made their slow way towards the parking lot. She furrowed her brow at him and said, "Is Tinkerberry my new nickname from you? Don't misunderstand me, I prefer it to Crazy ass."

"It fits," he shrugged with a smile. "Tiny sprite, full of mischief. Seriously Berry…I thought I had the prank war in the bag. And then you pulled that awesomely naught-AY slip and slide party…I had to go all out. I just…I doubted the girls when they picked you as their leader."

Rachel laughed in spite of herself as they meandered along the empty McKinley corridors. She shrugged and reminded him, "I do sort of excel at devious schemes. I mean, Mr. Ryerson…"

"I completely forgot about that," Puck laughed, shaking his head in amusement.

"And then there was Sunshine's crackhouse adventure," Rachel shrugged. "I can be very cunning when I want to, Noah."

"Say that word again," Puck demanded. Rachel looked at him in confusion and he made a ridiculously sultry face at her and said, "Cunning…say it Tink!"

"You're a buffoon," Rachel accused. He held the front door open for her and she smiled in surprise, "A buffoon with manners, but a buffoon nonetheless."

"Come on, Tink. I'll give you a ride-hold up. Where's my baby?" Puck dropped his arm from Rachel and took two hurried steps towards the parking lot. He turned to her in a panic and said, "My truck is gone."

"Oh? I'm sure that it must be around here somewhere!" Rachel assured him. "Are you very sure you parked here this morning?"

"Of course I parked here…I park here every morning!" Puck insisted strongly. He spun around in circles. "I don't understand…it's a piece of crap on wheels, why would someone steal it…"

His words died in his throat and Rachel couldn't help the very sinful little smirk playing at the corners of her mouth as he gazed above her. Five stories above her to be exact, his eyes widened as he gazed at the sight of his truck on top of the McKinley high roof. He shook his head in amazed disbelief and muttered,

"No fucking way. How did you? I mean…it's a fucking F-150…how could it…" he walked quickly towards the front doors again, gazing up the entire time. A full minute passed before he turned towards her, catching her trying to conceal her laughter. He shook his head again, as if trying to dispel the very unreal prank she had managed to pull. "You fucking rock, Tinkerberry."

"I hope you still think that in a few minutes, Noah," Rachel mirthfully shrugged.

"Huh?"

"NOW!" Santana screamed from up above.

Suddenly, he was drenched in cold, sticky goo. He ventured a taste and it was _definitely_ maple syrup. He heard girls laughing from up high and looked upwards, only to see a cloud of dazzling gold glitter heading his way, drifting down on the wind in a slow and magical manner.

POOF.

Maniacal laughter and high-fives were everywhere around him. Suddenly he felt a small hand gripping his and he felt her other hand gently pushing glittery syrup away from his shut eyes. He took a deep breath and said, "I should be super pissed at you Tinkerberry."

"I know," Rachel acknowledged. He stared down at her with anything _but_ malice in his eyes. Respect. Insane Lust. Amusement. But not anger. "Would it make you feel better if I kissed you once the glitter and syrup were gone."

"No, you gotta kiss me with the glitter and syrup," Puck demanded. His hands reached out and pulled at her waist, yanking her to him. She couldn't protest as he solidly kissed her on her lips, before moving around her cheeks and face, transferring as much glittery goop as he could.

"THAT SUCKS! How come he gets kisses and we just got glittered!"

Puck pulled away and stared at the school fountain, seeing the rest of his Glee boys anxiously trying to wash off the glitter and syrup they had been doused with earlier. He smirked and reached for Rachel again, not liking at all when she evaded his grasp and tried to make a run for it.

"Get back here Tinkerberry, I'm gonna feel you up RIGHT NOW!"

"What on Earth is going on out here you ill-bred Saved by the Bell rejects?"

"Santana, wait!" Rachel shrieked.

Too late. Sue Sylvester received the seventh bucket of maple syrup and glitter instead of Will Schuester. And with that one act alone, despite the headache the conference between Figgins and Sue had caused, Will awarded the girls not one, but five trips to Breadsticks.


	5. Chapter 5

Seriously? So sugartastic. Diabetics beware!

For Pristhebest's prompt: Mama P: "I'm sorry, Noah is a very possessive child".  
Papa B: "I think... Rachel doesn't mind being his property".

* * *

"_Twinkle Twinkle Big Big Star! How an wonder how you are!"_

"That was so lovely my darling little girl. You are the best and most wonderful singer ever!"

Jerome Berry's exuberant praise of his precious three and a half year old daughter was cut short as the doorbell rang. Rachel's already large, doe-like eyes widened in curiosity at the sound of the doorbell. It very rarely rang, but when it did it chimed "Tomorrow" from Annie.

"_Tomooowwwooww! Tomoooowwwowww!"_

Rachel gleefully rushed towards the door ahead of her father, singing one of her favorite songs. She excitedly tried to open the very child-proofed door as Jerome chuckled behind her.

"You are so excited about visitors, aren't you baby girl?" Jerome opened the door and smiled warmly at the visitors. Alison Puckerman tried to reciprocate the smile, but she looked seriously harried. Jerome nodded understandingly and asked, "Has it been a rough day?"

"It's his f-a-t-h-e-r," Alison whispered. "I have to go to Cleveland and B-A-I-L him out."

"B-A-I-L," Rachel parroted back. She scrunched her tiny forehead in concentration and murmured, "Bbbbaaahhhhlll. Bail…."

Jerome cringed and explained, "She reads. Spelling doesn't work for our little Rachel. Rachel, dearest, aren't you very excited for guests?"

Rachel beamed up at Alison Puckerman and immediately launched into animated song, "_BEEEE our GUEST! BEEE our GUEST! With a lalalala WEST!"_

"Mama?" a curious voice questioned from the car. A door slamming was heard and a small boy not older than four made his way towards the front door where his mother was at.

"Oh, look who decided he wanted to come on his play date afterall!" Alison laughed. She shared a subtle look with Jerome and explained, "He's been obsessed with singing since we watched _The Little Mermaid_ last weekend."

"_I wanna be where a people are…I wanna see…wanna see uhm dancing!"_

Noah Puckerman rushed to his mother's side at the sound of one of his favorite songs ever (of the last week). It didn't sound exactly like the pretty mermaid from the movie, but it still gave him a little rush of excitement and happiness. He felt his mother's hand on his head, ruffling the wavy brown locks on the top of his head. He stared at the little girl bedecked in pinks and purples and his mouth fell open as she continued to sing.

"_Light a fire and watch it _…whats a word?"

"BURN!" Noah laughed. He gave a quick hug to his mother's legs before grabbing a very astonished Rachel's hand and pulling her into the house.

Alison laughed ruefully and looked to a very amused Jerome Berry and said, "I'm so thankful for you watching him while I handle this. He's not a picky eater at all, and if your sweet Rachel keeps singing, he'll be totally content all day."

"All she does is sing the last few months. She's convinced that life is a musical," Jerome promised. He gave his friend a quick hug and said, "Go and don't worry. We're very happy to have Noah as a guest. Have a safe and quick trip, Alison…"

Alison Puckerman was gone for exactly five hours. Her trip was uneventful, as the judge refused to set bail for her husband, who had foolishly attempted to rob an armored car with a water gun. She was relieved actually that she would have a mini-vacation from her husband. She pulled into the Berry driveway at 8:15 p.m., fully expecting to pick up her sleeping child and trundle him back to her own house.

When Jerome Berry met her at the door, he held a finger to his lips while his other hand held a video camera. He gestured her into the house and pointed to a ridiculously high tech camera, indicating that she should pick it up. She followed him through the house, and the soft sound of the children singing became louder with each step. They arrived in front of a room that had a large pink name placard, with the name Rachel spelled out in golden stars. Jerome creaked the door open just a little, enough for the cameras to have a clear shot at Rachel's big-girl bed, where two little children were laying peacefully next to each other, singing to their hearts content.

"_A whole new worrrrrrld! A new famsastic place to me! A whole new wooooorrrrrllld!"_

"You sing so pwetty, Wachel…" Noah whispered as they paused.

"_I feel pwetty, oh so pwetty!"_ Rachel parroted back before giggling madly to herself.

"Less get mawwied, okay?" Noah asked. "Like Ewic and Awiel. You gotta white dress?"

"OKAY!" Rachel finally stopped singing, for the first time in at least two months. She hopped off the bed and went towards her toy chest that was solely dedicated to costumes. She pulled out her bridal dress up set and started to put it on, struggling slightly in getting it over her head. Noah was by her side in an instant and pulled the dress down helpfully.

"I need a tie!" Noah demanded. "And flowers."

"Let's go to Daddy's!" Rachel gripped Noah's hand and they rushed from the room.

Alison and Jerome dove for the bathroom to hide from the children. Somehow Jerome managed to keep filming as the children flew towards his bedroom he shared with his partner, Micah. The children exited the room with a tie wrapped around Noah's neck like a scarf and a hastily made bouquet of fake sunflowers gripped in Rachel's hands.

"Now, I say I do. And you say I do…and we…." Noah faltered.

"Kiss!" Rachel whispered back joyfully.

"I do," Noah nodded solemnly.

"Yes! I do too," Rachel grinned before closing her eyes, puckering her lips and leaning forward. She squealed with joy when she felt a pair of lips pressing against her own. When they broke apart Rachel grinned and began singing again, "_Love…love changes evey thing…"_

"I love you too, wife," Noah grinned. "Time to sleep now. Let's go."

The children ran off and Jerome and Alison shared a pained expression, knowing it was time to break up the fun. They opened Rachel's bedroom door cautiously, each exhaling a laughed sigh at the sight of their two children laying atop Rachel's bed again, arms wrapped around each other tightly, still in their wedding attire.

"I'm sorry," Alison whispered. "Noah is a very possessive child."

"I think…" Jerome began filming once more as the children fell asleep atop the bed. "I think that Rachel doesn't mind being possessed."

"Do you mind if he spends the night? I'd hate to break their hearts right now," Alison admitted.

"It would be a pleasure. Micah would be sorry he missed this, and the video just wouldn't do," Jerome nodded.

"I'd like a copy of that, I'm sure it'll come in handy someday."


	6. Chapter 6

Reprompt refilled from pristhebest... Baby!Noah kicks Baby!Jacob's ass because of Baby!Rachel

I feel like I'm cheating refilling a reprompt of a prompt I already filled. Oh well, I'll have to content myself with darling babyPuck and babyRachel. ;)

* * *

"Noah and Rachel? Would you two like to come and do a craft with the other children? We're coloring in pumpkins for a harvest bulletin board. I just know the two of you could make really pretty and amazing pumpkins!"

"No," Noah shook his head, barely looking up at the kind lady who worked for the preschool that was trying to involve the two four-year-olds in the activity.

"NO!" Rachel nodded in agreement with her best friend. Her _husbander_ is how the four year old had introduced him for the past six months. The past six months they had insisted on a play date every day. The first day that it had been deemed impossible by their collective parents, Rachel had shrieked her head off and insisted that she speak with her _husbander_ on the telephone.

The only problem was that when Micah and Jerome Berry had finally given up on reasoning with their daughter and called the Puckerman's, Alison had picked up frantic and said that Noah had thrown a fit and run away. Three hours later, Noah was banging on the Berry's door screaming his tiny head off about his wife being wife-napped.

Both the Berry's and Mrs. Puckerman had quickly rearranged their schedules so that Rachel and Noah had quality time with each other every day. Noah and Rachel's relationship was darling, and they would have been worried about their co-dependency, but it was also frighteningly realistic. Once a week, Noah would do something completely boy-like and ruin one of Rachel's playthings, and she would shriek at him and throw him out of the house, where he would pout and wait for his mother to pick him up. He would call later that night before bed time, crying that he was sorry and that he still loved his wife.

There were even times when Rachel would be thrown out of Noah's house. They usually involved instances where Rachel found that she wanted to make Noah pretty, and colored on him with his mother's lipstick while he was napping. And the memorable occasion when Noah had awoken from a nap to see that Strawberry Shortcake stickers now practically coated his walls.

"WHATCHO DO THAT FOR?" he had hollered. "Imma boy! I'm not a girwl! I can't be a husbander if I'm a girwl!"

"I wanted it pretty," Rachel had pouted. "Your room's ugly! I need pretty all the time! You dumb. D-U-M-B!"

"Stop spellin', you're stupid!" Noah had countered.

"I spell, I'm not stupid. D-U-M-B!" Rachel had screeched willfully.

"GET OUT! GET OUT!" Noah screamed back, pointing towards his door, even at four years old, fighting the very real urge to push her. He wouldn't want to hit a girl, and he certainly didn't want to hit his wife. But she made him SO mad sometimes.

Rachel had wailed on the doorstep for five minutes before Alison had convinced Noah to go out and forgive her. He sat next to her and mumbled, "You're not stupid, wife."

"Do you still l-l-l-love me?" Rachel sniffled, turning her very best sad, doe-eyes on Noah.

"Uh huh," Noah nodded, kissing her nose quickly. "I like your face."

"I like your ears," Rachel countered, pushing one tiny chubby finger against his ear lobe.

"I like your hands," Noah declared, grabbing her hand in his own.

"I like your feet," Rachel smiled.

"I like your songs," Noah smiled back.

Alison Puckerman recorded all ten minutes of Rachel and Noah sitting on her front stoop, talking about just how much they liked each other and made a quick copy for the Berry's to add to their ever growing collection of adorable videos. They were learning to acquire as many tapes and photos as they could, because their children were growing fast and they didn't know how much longer they would have such moments available. Both children spent four hours a day at pre-school already, and they had to shrug off the teacher's constant reminders that the children simply didn't socialize with other children, rather they played house all day.

Noah leaned back on the comfy bean bag chair he had drug over to the music area of the preschool, watching with a smile as Rachel sat down at a child sized piano and played Twinkle Twinkle Little Star over and over. They didn't really care about making friends with the other children at this point in their education. They were perfectly content to go to school for four hours a day and play to their hearts content with each other.

Besides, the other kids were too creepy and weird and they certainly didn't want to make friends with them. Dave Karofsky still peed his pants during naptime. Noah refused to even let Dave sit within five feet of Rachel, lest she get sick from his grossness. And he had already pushed Mike Chang's head in the toilet for commenting on how pretty his wife was. He had been forced to apologize, and the other little boy promised not to steal Rachel away, even going so far as to pinky swear on it. And then there was…

"AHHHHH!" Rachel screamed, scrambling off of the small piano bench and rushing towards Noah. "Save me, save me, save me!"

Noah stood up and furrowed his tiny brow in the direction of the piano, where an all too familiar bushy head of brown hair was barely visible. He stepped closer, with Rachel clinging to the back of his shirt each step of the way. Noah glared and said, "Creepy! You better stop!"

"NO!" Jacob Ben-Israel shouted defiantly, still crouched behind the piano and hiding, hoping against hope that Noah Puckerman couldn't see him.

"Rachel is my wife, and you gotta stop being creepy!" Noah ordered.

"He touched my hair," Rachel whimpered. "Now its gonna fall out, Noah!"

"Rachel, can I hit him?" Noah sweetly asked permission, petting Rachel's hair as if reassuring her that it wouldn't fall out. "Really hard?"

Rachel bit her lip in thought and she smiled when Noah kissed her nose. "Okay. But I'm gonna cover my eyes if it gets yucky."

"COOL!" Noah laughed, turning away from her and launching himself at the prone boy behind the piano. He had Jacob in a headlock within moments and screeched happily, "DIE CREEPY! DIE!"


	7. Chapter 7

I love fantasy football. Sometimes I accidentally call it Final Fantasy football. Whatevs. This is the shortest thing I've ever written. So this is what it means...this drabble thing.

Side note, I'm totally adding _Small Fry Glee Time_ to the list of stories I need to continue. So, I have to finish Fuickleberry, Start a new story that is KILLING me in my brain cause its stuck there and wants OUT, do babyGlee kids story (aka _Small Fry Glee Time_), AND not get sidetracked by all the awesome prompts. Hah. Goodluck with that.

* * *

"This is the largest travesty to have ever occurred!"

"...Bigger than that Guy-liner dude not winning American Idol?"

"Noah, please, this trumps any other disaster that has ever occurred in the history of man!"

"So, you're saying this is worse than like, the Haiti Earthquakes?"

"Pffff...they had a celebrity telethon for that. I don't see Brad Pitt on my television wearing an awful hat begging for me to text him money! Therefore, this is so much worse. Infinitely so."

"But really, you remember when that fruity Aids show closed and you cried for a week in school? That was worse, right?"

"It'll be revived soon enough, with me starring as Maureen, so no, that's not a travesty. That's an inevitability. THIS, this right here on my computer screen is absolutely destructive. Do you even know what will happen to my team, Noah? Without DeSean Jackson this weekend, I'll lose at least twenty points. I'll LOSE. To _Brittany_. This cannot happen. Do you think that if I sent a get-well package to the training facilities in Pennsylvania that Mr. Jackson would have a speedy recovery and play this weekend regardless of the horrid concussion that ill-bred baboon inflicted upon him?"

"Uhm-"

"Or perhaps I should leave his healing to modern medicine, although I know nothing helps my headaches more than a soothing cup of caffeinated tea. I think that my energies would be better served in writing to those in charge of the National Football League, urging them to take proper corrective procedures to those few idiots that lead with their helmets and cause such irreparable damage to the shining stars of my stellar, undefeated Shining Star Fantastical football team! Help me look for a replacement for just this weekend. Although the pickings are slim and I can't quite find another name as dramatic and lyrical as DeSean Jackson. He has a capital letter in the middle of his name, Noah. It's a star statement. I'll never find a suitable understudy in time."

Puck grinned as Rachel poured over the listings of available players on their Glee Club fantasy football league. The girls had joined and while they had let the computer pick their teams, Brittany had chosen carefully based off of pages of calculations handed down to her from her older half-brother. Rachel had decided to make her choices based on the players whose names had called out to her.

Which is how she regularly scored fifty points more than each of the other Glee opponents she had faced. She had sent thank you cards each week to DeSean Jackson especially, as he had been her top point getter. She had sent a very impolite, _Get Better Soon_ card to Tony Romo due to his total suckage, and she had gone as far as sending a fruit bouquet to the entire defense of the Minnesota Vikings for going above and beyond for her one week.

It was weird. And stupid. And completely wrong.

But also totally hot. He reached his hand out to trace a finger down his cheek and scoffed when she pushed his hand away.

"Focus Puckerman! I cannot lose to Brittany! I need another wide receiver!"

_So hot_.


	8. Chapter 8

This is for the idiotgirl's prompt of a beautiful BANG BANG picture and two words "Espionage Fic". Will do. Cause I love secret spy stuff and blowing stuff up. And I feel its pretty safe to say that although this is a "_drabble_", I will probably be making this into a full length multichapter fic whenever I'm finished with Fuickleberry story and then another story I wanted to do that I started as a drabble as well about Greek Gods. Totally existing in Lima. And the fun Havoc they wreak upon McKinley High School.

Okay, so here's my espionage drabble. : )

* * *

_Double O Puckleberry_

"Rachel…sweetheart? We're going to need you to sit down for this…"

"Daddies? What is it? You know I have a graduation party tonight at Santana's, and as much as she seems to have taken to me in the last two years, she will violently murder me if I don't get to the party at least fifteen minutes early to help her hide her mother's valuables," Rachel smiled at her fathers indulgently, knowing that it was easier to placate Santana with these silly tasks rather than help her through the inevitable rage induced violence spree towards the recent graduates of McKinley High if Mrs. Lopez's Precious Moment's statues went missing.

"You're such a thoughtful angel…she's just such a _delicate_ and thoughtful angel, Jerome…she can't…"

"Micah, please," Jerome said sternly. His partner was very rarely weepy, but they had both discovered as the days to Rachel's high school graduation had dwindled, both of the Fathers Berry had broken down in what was to come. He flinched only slightly as Micah placed a very resolute hand on his shoulder. They took one long moment to look at one another, wordlessly communicating as their barely amused daughter took one more glace at her watch.

Jerome sighed and Micah knew he had won this small battle. He smiled at Rachel and kissed her forehead and said, "Run along sweetie…we'll talk in the morning."

Rachel beamed and kissed both of their cheeks in rapid succession before skipping up the stairs to get her overnight bag that she had packed three months ago when Santana had announced her graduation party. She was blissfully unaware that her fathers continued their conversation downstairs, their whispers harsh and dire.

"One more night, we can't keep this from her any longer," Jerome insisted.

"One more night of just being a girl," Micah promised. "She'll be fine until tomorrow."

"Sweetheart?" Jerome called out as Rachel dashed down the stairs, her provisions for the evening at the ready. She gave them a beaming smile and Jerome did his best to return the happiness. "Would you do us a rather large favor, darling?"

"Daddy, of course!" Rachel nodded.

"Find Noah Puckerman at the party, please. Stick close by. We're-"

Micah could see his partner had a momentary derailment in his usually cool and calculated thought. He picked up the idea immediately and ran with it, twenty-five years of practice obviously not going to waste, "We're concerned. His mother thinks that he may be depressed. He could really use a dose of Rachel sunshine here."

"Daddies!" Rachel laughed. She nodded despite herself, because after all, spending time with Noah didn't seem like the worst suggestion in the world. They had grown into a comfortable acquaintance since their break-up in sophomore year. She dared to dream that he didn't want to light himself on fire when she was speaking anymore. She blew a kiss towards her parents before promising, "I'll be Noah's shadow. Promise."

* * *

"PUCKERMAN! You asshole, why are you hoarding Rachel away from me all night? You know she's mine right now, right? She's MY toy to play with and you can go and find your own Rachel Damned Berry, cause I already made the payments on this one."

"Really, Puck. Selfishness is the leading cause of male pattern baldness."

Rachel giggled as she nursed the red plastic cup that she had only really taken two sips of that evening. She didn't care for drinking, but Santana had drilled her in proper party etiquette. If she was holding a drink all night, no assholes would try to roofie her with a new drink. Santana did really care for her friends. As was evidenced by the crackling young women standing in front of a bored and disinterested Puck. Brittany stood next to Santana, her arms crossed in an attempt at anger.

"Santana, I'm not a piece of luggage," Rachel reminded the party hostess.

"Hell no, you're like my bitch. Do I have to pee on you to prove it?" Santana scoffed.

Puck raised an eyebrow and looked between all three girls in mildly disgusted interest. He poked at Rachel's shoulder and said, "This is the freaky shit you guys do together when you're all manless? Here I thought it had been like two straight years of hot tongue kissing."

Rachel rolled her eyes at him and then leveled a barely amused glare at Santana. "As exciting as this horribly disgusting conversation is, I'm going to head downstairs and check in on Quinn. She had already had half a bottle of Peach Schnapps, and if you remember Spring break, you would do well to remember, BRITTANY, that giving Quinn peach schnapps makes her angry. And also vomit continuously."

"Peach schnapps can't make a person angry. It's fluffy kitten napping in sunshine all pressed in a bottle," Brittany countered.

"You're a dumb bitch," Santana cooed fondly. She launched herself at her girlfriend, lips mashing against Brittany's as Santana continued to murmur fond insults between kisses.

"Noah? Are you going to accompany me downstairs?" Rachel demanded as she turned away from her friends' nauseating public displays of affection.

"Half a minute," Puck mumbled as he watched the recently graduated Cheerios with never-ending fascination.

Rachel rolled her eyes and headed towards the grand staircase of Santana's lavish house. She surveyed the raging party and sure enough, Quinn was in the corner alternating between punching Finn in his forehead with an absurd amount of angry force and fighting the urge to heave the contents of her stomach on his shoes. The rest of her friends, the original Glee club mostly, were dispersed through the party and looked to be having a seriously wonderful time.

A cheer went through the crowd as Kanye West's "Stronger" came on. Artie began rapping along with undeniable skill and Mike stood atop the grand oak dining room table and began to pop and lock for their cheering classmates. Rachel giggled to herself as she surveyed the total happiness and joy on the faces of all of her friends. They would have three more months of this solidarity before they all went their separate ways, Rachel knew that but refused to dwell on just how sad that day would inevitably be. Tonight was for celebrations and joy…

And explosions.

She felt her whole body being pushed backwards as her hand gripped the railing of the steps with more strength than she knew she possessed. Her eyes closed tightly of their own accord as a wall of heat expanded around her and screams of the partygoer's clawed at her ears. The explosion lasted less than a second, but she felt that it was a lifetime as she gripped the railing from her seated position on the steps. She was sure she had been standing a moment before.

Upstairs, Brittany and Santana broke apart and Puck jumped out of his skin. He shared an alarmed look with Santana before she barked out, "Go and get her! Jesus Christ man!"

Puck took off with a surprising amount of agility, finding Rachel sitting in the middle of the large staircase, her hand clenched around the railing so tightly that her knuckles were white. He was at her side in an instant and demanded with a quietness that was surprising to both of their ears.

"Rach, you okay?"

"People are hurt," Rachel whispered, looking down at the carnage. She saw Quinn struggling to push Finn off of her, who had somehow managed to shield her from the worst of it by falling on top of her. Rachel rose suddenly and began bounding down the steps, "We need to call an ambulance."

"Rach—wait, come here," Puck demanded, looking to the front door anxiously. If the party had been interrupted by an explosion, he was sure that someone would be stopping by shortly to see if the job had been done. He grabbed Rachel's forearm and deftly dodged her swinging hand as she fought to break free of his grip.

"NOAH!" Rachel harshly yelled. "People are hurt, we have to help."

"We got this, Rachel, don't worry," Santana said evenly as she and Brittany bounded down the steps. She nudged Puck's shoulder and said, "Puck's got to take you to your dads. Like, forever ago. We'll take care of everyone."

"My dads?" Rachel whispered. "What?"

"Rach, look at me," Puck demanded in a tone that left little room for argument. She had no choice but to look up at him, her gaze locking with his, suddenly transfixed by the glinting flecks of green in his eyes. "Your dads are definitely in danger right now. And you have to listen very closely to what I'm about to say."

She nodded, mutely, thank God. He bent forwards and put his lips to her ear and whispered, "HaKash SheShavar et Gav HaGamal…"

Brittany watched in fascination, Santana simply sighed and pushed her way past Puck and Rachel to begin attending to the wounded. But Brittany could only watch, enraptured as Rachel's brown eyes went nearly black and blank, her face which had been previously been filled with panic and worry suddenly was a clean slate. Her body had been tense against Puck's, and now it was fluid and relaxed. Brittany cocked her head to the side and demanded,

"Make that happen to me…"

"No such luck. You're not the super weapon," Puck rolled his eyes. He looked down at Rachel with worry and said, "We're going to go to your fathers' house. We'll get you answers there."

"Mission," Rachel whispered quietly, her voice registering octaves lower than usual.

"Only one, stay alive until I can hand you off back to your dads," Puck said resolutely. "Keeping me alive would be an added bonus."

Rachel nodded and turned on her heel, bounding down the steps, followed quickly by Puck. Brittany trotted after them, standing by the door and waving enthusiastically.

"Be careful! Make sure you're back by the 4th of July, we're having another party! San said she'd rent me a bouncy castle!"

Puck and Rachel made it halfway down the block towards his truck when all hell broke loose. A large black van squealed around the corner of the normally sedate Walnut Street and he felt Rachel tense momentarily beside him. He squared his shoulders and waited as the doors to the van opened before it had come to a complete stop and five large men dressed all in black poured out and rushed directly towards the high school graduates. Puck took one last glance at Rachel and attempted to smirk as he saw her body automatically go into a defensive stance. He knew that technically she was physically ready for this, just as he had been when his time had come during his time in "juvie". But he couldn't help but worry a little. She was legally a midget.

The midget's legs swung out suddenly, her sensible Mary Jane's connecting with the jaw of Asshole Number One. Puck took the guy's serious stumbling and used it to his advantage, grabbing the guy by his shirt, hockey style and inflicting serious damage. He watched as Rachel precisely kicked and punched in perfect, textbook style, incapacitating these men who were three times her size.

He vaguely wondered if this is what he looked like that first time he had been put under. He took another of Rachel's incapacitated rejects and knocked him unconscious with a severe head butt before throwing him onto the ever growing pile of Assholes. If he had ever fought in Rachel's textbook style, he had certainly forgotten it as he moved like an old drunk Irish boxer. Slightly clumsy and graceless, but definitely powerful and effective.

Rachel took on Asshole Number Five, who was actually anticipating her karate happy moves. She was losing ground, and Puck couldn't stand the way her stony façade broke ever so slightly, and behind the haze of the trance he had put her in, he could definitely see her very real fright for one split second. He found himself full out spear-tackling Asshole Number Five to the ground, punching the crap out of the dude's temples until he was completely unconscious and _definitely_ fucking concussed. He turned to see that Rachel was currently rummaging through the pockets of the pile of assholes they had made and she came up with two handguns, tossing him one carefully before continuing towards Puck's truck.

They were in the truck and on the road less than two blocks before another black van began tailing them at a ridiculous speed. Puck looked to Rachel with a nod and wordlessly she twisted in her seat, leaning out of the passenger side window. Puck kept glancing her way, partly because he was scared she would tumble from the truck and partly because he was totally getting an eyeful of turquoise panty as her skirt rode up indecently as she tangled out the passenger window and fired two shots in the van's tires, causing the van to spin wildly out of control and crash into a fire hydrant.

Puck drove furiously to Rachel's house, anxious to get her back to her dads. He couldn't understand why they hadn't taken care of this sooner. There was no way he was supposed to be her trigger man. It was all kinds of wrong for her two gay dads to totally wimp out and make HIM the bad guy in this and effectively end their daughter's childhood. Gay bastards.

"Noah," Rachel whispered. "What's happening?"

"Rach?" he furrowed his brow. He hadn't seen many people in trance mode before, but he had seen enough to know that they weren't supposed to be chatty motherfuckers. They were supposed to be freaking killing machines in trance mode. Leave it to Rachel Berry to be the one to break the mold. Girl can't even be silent when put into mute killer mode. He sighed and said, "We're going to back to your dads. They can explain."

"You explain," she whispered, her voice sounding more and more like her own, with its softness and lilt returning.

"Jesus H. Fucking Christ on a Motherfucking Stick!" Puck growled, taking one corner a little more violently than he probably should have, as Rachel slid across the seat until her body was crammed against him. He looked at her and could see the real Rachel in her eyes. Huh. She had willed herself out of a subliminally planted trance that had been programmed into both of them at far too early an age. He had been out for three days when it had happened to him.

"Please explain," she whispered desperately. "What's happening?"

"Rach, here's the thing," Puck sighed. He swallowed nervously before just shrugging and giving up. "You and me? We're part of this-experiment thing. We were both picked in freaking nursery school who knows, shit maybe before that. They've been working on us for a long time. We're like, multi-million dollar weapons of fucking espionage. The people following us? They'd really like taking us back to their labs and messing with our already messed up minds in order to get us to kill the people we work for and like, take over the world and shit."

Puck was expecting tears. Or perhaps incredulous laughter. Or maybe even a bullshit coming from Rachel's mouth. Instead he got one curt nod, a hand suddenly wrapped in his own and her soft voice echoing in his ears.

"Oh. Well that makes sense."


	9. Chapter 9

Three weeks before the start of her senior year, Rachel Berry was kidnapped. She had been perusing the newest arrivals of sheet music at the store, writing down a meticulously done list of potential swan songs the members of New Directions could sing together during their final year of high school. Four boys ran into the store, looking extremely out of place. They couldn't have been older than fourteen, their hair was ridiculously shaved and colored, one of them had an eyebrow that had gone missing.

_I'm being kidnapped by deviant, crazy, cult members with no mirrors or morals. Oh God..._

"GOT HER!" the purple haired boy squealed in delight as his companions both grabbed at her.

Rachel used her considerable lung capacity and vocal power to shriek the first thing that came to her mind in such a heightened state of danger and panic.

**"NOAH!"**

But her boyfriend of six months was nowhere to be found. He had been her protector for so long now, taking a slushie just to walk arm in arm with her at school, moving the Glist, avenging the poor baby chicks that Jesse had thrown her way, helping to pick up her pieces last Christmas when Finn had broken her heart, since becoming her boyfriend he had been so protective it had seemed annoying. She shrieked and kicked at her attackers as they hauled her out of the music store. She would gladly welcome the annoyance of one overly protective boyfriend now.

But Noah was one day into a five day sleep-away camp that Coach Bieste was running to get her football team into tip-top shape. They were contenders this year, and Noah was in talks with various East Coast Universities already to continue his football career. A million thoughts flew through Rachel's head as she viciously yanked at a ridiculous green horn of hair on one of the boy's heads. She tried to remember the simple self defense mechanisms Noah had drilled into her head. She fought valiantly, but when two more boys arrived, dressed in girls clothing nonetheless, she was outnumbered, although she did impressively kick quite a few groins and even managed to draw blood from one of the boys' noses.

"Where are you taking me? Who are you? My fathers are very influential people in Lima and I'll have you know that there will be no place you can hide me once they're interviewed by Robin Roberts tomorrow morning regarding my disappearance! Everyone will be looking for me!" Rachel cried out obnoxiously from the back seat of the van they had thrown her in. She brazenly reached out and smacked a bald headed boy with Sharpie-drawn doodles all over his head, causing him to actually fall forward in his seat. "My boyfriend is incredibly strong and absolutely _vicious_ to people that have hurt me. He buried Andrew Karofsky underneath eight tons of manure last spring because he insulted me. I cannot WAIT to see what he does to you!"

"Shit man...you don't think," one of the younger boys squeaked from the front of the van uncertainly.

"Relax, run in to that store and get one lego brick. You guys go and find an old lady and ask if she'll let you kiss her and get a picture...what else is on the list?" the driver demanded, trying to run his hands through what could only be newly permed hair died a shocking carroty orange.

"List? There's a list?" Rachel demanded from the back seat. "Explain yourselves, heathens! Kidnapping me will put you in jail for twenty to thirty years, not to mention that my fathers will sue your parents for recklessly endangering me by raising evil, disgusting, horribly coiffed boys. And Noah will END YOU ALL!"

"He's gonna kill us!" the youngest boy started to wail. "He's gonna dunk our heads in the toilets and then bury us under the field goal posts!"

"Someone gag her!" the Carrot-top-esque driver demanded.

Rachel screeched even while a curiously decadent red silk scarf was placed over her mouth and secured tightly. She managed to punch another of the boys in the process, but still could not fight her way out of her imprisonment. The boys who had gone on the mission returned with what they needed, one of them looking quite green around the gills.

"I want to wash my mouth out with bleach. The old bird shoved her tongue down my throat!" a boy with stars shaved into his bleached hair gagged and struggled to hold back vomit.

Rachel didn't waste her voice any further and stayed fuming and silent in the back seat with the gag securely tied around her mouth. She watched in horrified fascination as her captors made three more stops, obtaining a dozen lilies, a picture of one of the boys pretending to hump a bent over mailman, tickets at the local ticketmaster, and an unknown stop at the Whole Foods Grocery store. She squirmed in her seat as they drove out of the heart of downtown Lima she darted her eyes everywhere at once, trying to figure out where they were headed.

She shrieked from underneath her gag when the van pulled to a stop at McKinley High just outside of football stadium. The side door to the van swung open, and Rachel used a strength she didn't know she possessed in bull rushing the door, taking time only to stomp on as many feet as she could, ramming her shoulder into the ringleader so that he was sprawled out on the gravel on his back.

She ran as fast as she could, her mind so preoccupied with freedom that she didn't even take off her gag as she rushed into the boys locker room. She felt hot tears slipping down her cheeks at the sight of him and made a small squeaking sound to get his attention away from Finn, Mike and Sam. Noah's jaw dropped in unison with the other seniors on the football team and he rushed to Rachel, yanking off her gag and wrapping her in his arms.

"What happened, baby?" he demanded. "Who did this?"

"I don't know," Rachel wailed. "I thought I was going to die. I was kidnapped out of the music store, Noah! They gagged me, and they did all sorts of highly unusual things and then brought me here to what I assume would have been my eventual rape or death! Please, please, don't ever let me go...please!"

"I won't baby, I won't," he assured her.

"Uhm...did these guys have, like crazy hair?" Mike wondered.

"Why yes, Michael, they were horribly coiffed. It must be part of their cult's ways," Rachel sniffled as Noah held onto her tightly, petting her hair reassuringly, calming her with every touch. "We should really call the police, they're right outside."

"Finn, Puck's gonna kill you," Sam whispered, although everyone in the room heard it.

Rachel felt Puck tense and he turned so that he could peer over the top of Rachel's head and asked lowly, "What did you do, Finnderella?"

"Uhm..." Finn shrugged. "I gotta go. I'm moving to another state."

Finn ran to the showers and jumped up on the ledge that led to a small window. He very quickly squeezed through it, seemingly defying physics and the laws of science in general, leaving Puck to glare at his co-captains, who could only shrug in confusion and horror.

"Captain Puckerman?" a voice squeaked behind Puck. The bald young man with sharpie doodles on his skull held out a list to Puck. "We finished the scavenger hunt sir."

Rachel gasped and her hand darted out suddenly, grabbing the list and reading it quickly. "Noah..." she said quietly, her voice deadly and soft.

"Baby, it wasn't me, I told them to get all the cute romantic things, 'cause Bieste is letting us seniors a night out, and I was gonna surprise you and be all romantic and shit. I swear!" Puck said quickly, more words falling out of his mouth in two seconds than had ever fallen out before.

"Noah," she repeated evenly. "This is a list for your football team. These boys, with ridiculous hair..."

"That was my fault," Sam admitted sheepishly. "We all came up with a sort of hazing activity? Mine was crazy hair."

"Had to go out and obtain these items," Rachel squinted at the list. "Romantic items...and completely absurd pictures."

"Those were mine, I like posting funny pictures on the internet," Mike whispered.

"And your list of romantic items for a surprise date with me...including, _the girl Puck had sex with last night_," Rachel hissed.

"Finn," all three boys said in unison.

"Sharpie-head!" Rachel yelled.

"Yes, ma'am?" the young football player squeaked.

"Bring me Finn Hudson," Rachel demanded. "Dead or alive. It doesn't matter. Bring me Finn Hudson or I will have Noah END you."

The boy rushed away and Puck reached out and squeezed Rachel's shoulder again, "I'm sorry, baby. I had no idea..."

"It's fine. But when those boys bring Finn back, you _will_ torture him endlessly. Sam? I'm thinking a ridiculous haircut is in order, and Michael, I'm sure you can pose him in an endless variety of funny poses for your internet postings. And Noah? You will be very. VERY. _Violent_."

Her boyfriend grinned back at her and managed to mumble, "So hot, baby. So fucking hot."

* * *

From Druidspell's (315): I just got kidnapped by the rugby team for a scavenger hunt. I'm "the girl you had sex with last night"


	10. Chapter 10

pippivirgin from the puckrachel drabblememe said, "Dude. We be insane." She didn't mean it as a prompt. She meant it as a comment to the general sanity of the puckrachel drabble meme. Yes, we do be insane. And I decided that I had to have that line for a Changerman one shot. I love me some Mike Change Noah Puckerman bromance.

* * *

"Puck."

"Ching-Chang. What it be like, bro?"

"How fast can you drive to New York?"

Puck furrowed his brow and looked up from his video game, Super Mario 3, classic NES style, _of course_. You don't drink top shelf bourbon out of a paper cup and you don't play classic video games on a fake console. He looked at his roommate and could easily tell that Mike Chang was about to wet himself or burst into tears AND wet himself. He looked back at his gaming console and cursed inwardly. He had blown into the console and the game in a specific combination at least fifteen times in order to get it to work. Now all his hard work is going down the tubes.

"I think Tina's pregnant."

Puck jumped to his feet immediately, reaching for a hoodie, his wallet and his keys. You don't go through Babygate your sophomore year of high school and not panic at the first sign of pregnancy. Hell, when Burt and Carol Hummel announced they were expecting at the beginning of that summer, 9 out of 12 Glee club members curled up in the fetal position and either hyperventilated or sobbed. Puck had sobbed. Whatever, Hudson totally crapped his pants at the shock of his mother's ovaries still working.

"Let's roll, dude. We'll be at your girl's doorstep in an hour and ten minutes, tops," Puck promised, closing their dorm room door. He was fairly certain that if he could avoid the traffic, the trip from Penn State to NYU could be even shorter. He had been fairly practiced at getting to New York in the last two years of college. Sure, he hadn't made the trip in three weeks, but he could practically drive there with his eyes closed.

"Are you sure, I mean-what if you run into-"

"Then maybe she'll fucking talk to me," Puck grumbled, firing up his truck as Mike climbed inside. He knew the chances of running into his ex were slim to none. New York City had millions of people in it. What were the chances that he run into one Rachel Berry? He couldn't be so lucky. The girl had been in high-avoidance mode since she dumped his ass three weeks ago. Her reasoning? Oh just the fact that she's fucking INSANE CRAZY.

And he seriously eats that crazy shit up. Like Rachel Berry is the never-ending snack pack pudding cup of crazy and he shoves his face into it to make sure he gets every last drop of crazy outta the little plastic container.

He smirked and Mike rolled his eyes, "Can you like, not think about doing the nasty with Rachel while I'm in major trauma over here? If Tina's pregnant? Her dad is going to ship me to China. I'm not doing factory work, dude."

"Why do you think she's pregnant anyway?" Puck wondered.

"She's all weepy and shit on the phone," Mike explained.

Puck nodded and said, "Quinn was weepy. Miss Pillsbury was weepy senior year before we all figured out she was knocked up with Schuester's spawn."

"Her facebook status is set to SHOCK. In capital letters," Mike sighed.

"Yeah, the fact that you have fully functioning sperm is kind of a shock," Puck nodded.

"I'm gonna beat your ass as soon as you stop this truck," Mike grumbled.

"So weepy and shock…that's not a lot to go on," Puck shrugged.

"When she was hanging up this morning, I heard her saying something to someone else about _the baby_," Mike nearly whispered, turning white as a sheet. "I'm going to die man. I mean, I'm barely basing statistics. I can't do math, which means I'm going to be the shittiest Asian dad ever. My dad is a fucking accountant. Tina's dad is a calculus professor. I can't even freaking do long division without a calculator! How can I be a proper Asian dad if I can't even teach my kid FRACTIONS?"

"Asians have really high standards for good fatherhood," Puck mumbled with a raised eyebrow as Mike broke down into near hysterics, crazily whispering things like divisors, decimals and daddy.

"You don't understand what I'm going through!" Mike nearly shouted, clearly in high grade hysterics.

Puck stared at his friend in utter disbelief, his jaw hanging open. Five minutes passed before he bellowed,

"I'm gonna beat your ass as soon as this truck is stopped!"

"Yeah, sorry. I'm just FREAKING OUT!" Mike screamed. "I mean, what would you do now, if it were Rachel? I mean, you're doing well in school, she's doing workshops right now, what would you do if she was pregnant right now?"

Silence pervaded throughout the truck as Mike's words settled into Puck's brain. If Rachel were the one that was pregnant-if it was Rachel that was…moody, and weepy, and had brushed him off three weeks ago and had set her facebook status to SHOCK. Oh sweet yet to be born Jewish Messiah on a cracker. Rachel's facebook status for the last three weeks had been set to DENIAL.

"HOLY MOTHER OF FUCKING SHIT, CHANG! YOU SHUT YOUR DAMNED WHORE MOUTH!" Puck bellowed. He began breathing heavily, taking deep breaths that were meant to calming, but only managed to make him border on hyperventilation.

Mike panicked as he saw Puck turn a completely unnatural shade of white. He swallowed and said, "I take it back dude. Mulligan. Rachel's not pregnant. No way. I mean…no. She didn't like, break it off with you cause you knocked her up. No…it couldn't be."

"Who was Tina talking to this morning when she hung up with you, dude?" Puck demanded.

"Uhm…Rachadstoppedby," Mike whispered.

"FUCKING FLAMING SHIT!" Puck growled, his foot stepping on the gas even harder. He looked at the speedometer and saw that he was now zipping along so quickly along 81 North that the truck could no longer register the speed. He had engaged the damned warp drive. "I'm gonna kill you slowly, Chang. In front of Tina, too."

"Fuck you, asstard. Just because I said the words didn't mean I'm the one that put your super sperm inside your girlfriend!" Chang yelled.

"Fuck your mother, asshole!" Puck yelled back. "It's you, it's Tina, she's all pregnant and shocked because she let some asshole BAD AT MATH Asian mother fucker knock her the fuck up!"

"I'm gonna barf," Mike mumbled suddenly, rolling down the window and leaning his head out.

"I can't believe that you even know how to have sex, much less insperminate your girlfriend," Puck grumbled. "Didn't she make you take a math test before hand. Or at least check your SAT scores?"

"You're a first class douchebag. You win the fucking Douchebag Supreme Award from the Highest Order of Douchebaggery," Mike grumbled.

"I like that one. Douchebaggery. That's excellent, Chang," Puck suddenly admitted, real pride in his voice at seeing his formerly shy best friend break out the big guns of big boy insults. "Super proud of you bro."

"Thanks," Mike mumbled. He shook his head and said, "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to man up. We're going to go find our girls and see which one of them is the one that's got either a kosher bun or a steamed pork bun in their oven. We're going to promise that it'll be okay. Then we're transferring to a school in New York or Jersey or something and we're going to be the most kick ass dads in the history of the world," Puck insisted, all the former panic and worry gone, his tone now confident and reassuring.

"Do you think Rutgers would still need us for football? We could probably transfer real easy," Mike nodded.

"I know for a fact that Rutgers wouldn't be opposed," Puck shrugged. He could feel Mike's questioning eyes on him and after a few minutes of silent driving he admitted, "I made the call last semester to their recruiter. They totally were into it. I let Rachel know three weeks ago."

"She freaked?" Mike furrowed his brow.

"Wept like a baby at first," Puck shrugged, wincing only slightly at his choice of words. "Then she got all weird, like I was giving up my dreams at Penn State because I wanted to be near her. She wept for an hour about Joe-pa for Christ's sake."

"It'll be okay though," Mike said suddenly. "She's scared, if its her that's you know. With child."

"I'm punching you twice once we've stopped the car. You can't say something like that in this truck unless you have a uterus," Puck mumbled. He shrugged and said, "We'll be okay. On Monday, we'll call Rutgers and transfer. Joe-pa hates my guts anyway."

"He keeps calling me Charlie," Mike pouted slightly. The drove in a more comfortable silence then, each wrapped up in his own thoughts about their own girl who may or may not have peed on a stick and discovered their lives had changed. Mike stared out to the other side of the highway and squinted slightly at an unmistakable car. "Pink min-cooper."

"Huh?" Puck demanded. "Rachel?"

"AND TINA! LOOK!" Mike pointed to the opposite side of the highway and sure enough a brightly obnoxious pink Mini Cooper was zooming south while Puck and Mike were zooming north. Rachel was behind the wheel with a determined look on her face as Tina bit anxiously at her nails. "TURN!"

Puck went up over the middle of the highway, straight over the embankment and quickly tailed the girls. Rachel was positively speeding, her little car zooming in and out of the light traffic on the interstate. Puck shook his head in concerned disbelief and muttered, "I'm going to scold her so bad for driving so recklessly."

Mike swallowed back the bile that had made a brief appearance at Puck's own reckless driving and kept his eyes trained on the car that held their respective ladies. He pointed and said, "She's signaling off, must need to go pee…pregnant ladies pee a lot, right?"

"Yeah, Quinn always had to pee. Miss Pillsbury had like, new sanitizing equipment installed in the ladies room…Finn said his mom can't go two minutes without having to pee lately," Puck nodded, following Rachel as her car slid into a rest stop. Both boys spilled from the car chasing after the girls intently. Puck paused for a milli-second before launching a ridiculously strong punch into Mike's bicep. "That's for saying with child in the car!"

Mike cursed and the boys never broke their stride, even as Mike smacked the back of Puck's head. "That's for insulting my fully functioning sperm."

"DUDE!" Puck shrugged. "It was so shocking, I couldn't help but be insulting."

"Fuck you Puckerman!" Mike grumbled as they stood outside of the ladies room Rachel and Tina had entered.

"Oh no, no, no, Fuck YOU Chang!" Puck scoffed.

They stared each other down for exactly three and a half seconds before they each launched themselves at each other. They pummeled each other as they rolled around on the not-quite clear floor of the rest-stop, although it was obvious they were holding back the more potent fighting methods. There were no fists, but more grappling and ridiculous pinching as they tried to expend their sudden anxious energy.

"NOAH PUCKERMAN!"

"MICHAEL CHANG!"

…

…

…

"Shit."

"Fuck."

Rachel and Tina gaped at the boys in complete shock as Puck had Mike in a headlock, with Mike's hands on Puck's chest area, obviously in the middle of a nipple twist. Tina managed a smirk at that until Mike removed his hands. The boys struggled to their feet and each swallowed nervously, completely in sync. Mike looked to Tina, and her dancing eyes and smirking face coupled with her simultaneous shock and joy at seeing him was all the answer he needed. He was completely off the hook. Tina wouldn't be looking at him with what they had deemed the secret sparkle of Asian Fusion naughty time if she was the one. He winced slightly for his friend before he reached out and grabbed for Tina, pulling her into a bone crushing hug as they both giggled.

Puck clenched his jaw as Rachel looked at him with uncertain, tear-filled eyes.

_Shit_.

He walked towards Rachel and dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands encircling her waist as he placed his head against her abdomen. He breathed out a strangled sob as she let her hands rest gently on the top of his head. He couldn't help the smile as he pressed lips to her abdomen, and whispered, "I love you so much. Please Rach, please we can work through this."

"Noah?" Rachel whispered unknowingly. "How did you-how can you be here?"

"Chang had a creepy Asian vision. I'm coming to Rutgers baby, don't argue. I love you too much. I love our little guy in there too much. I'm not staying so far away. I love you, Rach."

"I love you too, Noah," Rachel smiled, her tears easily slipping from the corners of her eyes. She shook her head suddenly and broke out of the trance his earnest hazel gaze had set her in and said, "What little guy?"

"Okay, okay, our little guy or girl. Our little bundle of cells or zygotes or whatever it is right now," Puck shrugged, kissing her abdomen again. "Whatever it is, I love it."

"Noah?" Rachel breathed. "Are you under the assumption that…that I'm with child?"

"He's not going to hit her for that," Mike grumbled to Tina obnoxiously.

"You're not…but Chang said-moody, and he heard you guys talking about a baby….and you were all facebook despairing and shit," Puck rambled helplessly.

"I'm not…I was in despair because of our brief separation," Rachel smiled softly at him.

"And the baby is the Hudson-Hummel baby," Tina piped in. "Carol's in labor. We were heading back home to be there for Kurt and Finn. Didn't you get their call?"

"I ignore Kurt the day after Project Runway," Mike explained.

"I ignore Hudson the day after One Tree Hill," Puck shrugged, standing up and reaching out for Rachel, giving her a proper hug.

The girls laughed and squirmed away from their idiot boys and began walking towards the vending machines in search of appropriate snacks for the rest of their journey. The boys stared at each other in disbelief. Each with a hint of a smile on his face. Mike was the first to speak,

"Dude. We be insane."

Puck rolled his eyes and said, "We? Shit. YOU be stupid."

"You were on your knees…" Mike began.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Puck insisted, lunging for his friend again.

"Boys? When you're done being stupid? We'll be heading back to Lima," Tina rolled her eyes.

"I love you babe!" Noah called out before screaming out in horror as Mike bit him in retaliation for the wet willy he had just inflicted.

"I love you too, Noah. You marvelous idiot."


	11. Chapter 11

No one prompted this. However, we were chatting on the prompt-a-ma-jig on ElJay, and someone said something or other about Finchel. So I says, I says a finchel is this and a Puckleberry be this. And then I had the idea that Brittany should name some couples and give their definition. This is a lot funnier in my head, but I hope you still enjoy.

* * *

"It's TOO hilarious!"

"Omigod-omigod-omigod, I'm gonna pee my pants…"

"Do mine next, do mine!"

"What's going on guys?" Will Schuester smiled at his Glee students as he walked into the choir room. Today was going to be a good day if he had to tie it up and force it to be a good day. And things were looking up. All twelve of his Glee kids were sitting in a room together _laughing_ and not completely at one another's throats. Mike was rolling around on the floor, which could have easily happened on any other normal day, but the rest of his guys were laughing too. And all the girls had smiles on their faces, except for Brittany, who currently was staring back at the Glee director with a blank expression.

"Mr. Schue, you gotta see this," Merecedes chuckled. "Brittany, what are Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury?"

"Wemma," Brittany shrugged. She could see her enraptured audience waiting for more so she sighed heavily and explained, "It's like an old English carpet bag maker that's got like, three old ladies stitching together stuff. They will never really die. But they don't really matter either. Also, the bags smell like paper towels and oranges."

The kids shrieked with laughter and Will could only furrow his brow as Mike began waving his hand from the floor he was currently rolling on.

"MINE, MINE!" he demanded. He took a deep breath and said, "What're me and Tina?"

"Chang-squared," Brittany said solemnly, staring at Tina as she squealed with delight. "It's not funny. It's a secret society of killer ninjas who specialize in climbing into computers and sticking the pornographic pop-up viruses there. They're the leading cause of computer waste."

"So what were YOU and Mike?" Santana demanded evilly, throwing an unnecessary smirk towards an unimpressed Tina.

"Bike, Santana. They're like, you know. Things you ride on," Brittany explained patiently, although her demeanor clearly showed that she thought Santana was having a truly clueless moment.

"Okay, so Coach Sylvester and Figgins?" Will asked curiously, eager to see what the completely innocent-minded Brittany would come up with.

"Sliggins," Brittany immediately replied. "Coach Sylvester said that together they would be the iron fist that crushed the life out of your overly permed skull."

"Oh." Will nodded, immediately regretting ever asking. He watched anxiously as names were thrown out and Brittany became a human relationship name generator, supplying the most ridiculous of names for the giggling Gleeks, who he had to admit, deserved the break after all their hard work in preparing for Regionals in the last few weeks.

"Surt. It's like the Candy Cane McFlurry, it doesn't always exist when it should exist, but its so so good."

"Quartie. It's a unicorn that I strangled to death because I'm way cuter and much more awesome."

"Jones-son. They're spice company that makes the really yummy nutmeg that the Cheerios snort when we need to make weigh-in. Also, they make pumpkin pie spice. Which I love."

"Shummel. It's the future and it totally happens. Like how Back to the Future totally happened and is currently happening right now."

"Do Finchel!" Santana smirked again, her evilness generating more eyerolls than usual.

"What's…what's a Finchel?" Brittany stuttered.

"Uhm…Rachel and-"

"There's no such thing as Finchel," Brittany shook her head adamantly. "It would be weird. Like, it would be a dying bird who ate rotten pastries. That's not nice. I like birds. Hey, is Kurt going to visit with his bird again? Because I liked to feed it post-it notes."

The Gleeks stared at Brittany as Rachel's face grew slightly pink from Brittany's insistent words. Finn glared out the window, still not wanting to rip the band-aid off of the fresh hell of teenaged romantic angst that had been festering since Christmas-time. Santana shrugged and looked at Brittany with an inappropriate amount of amusement and pure evil and said in a whisper that only Brittany heard,

"Rachel and Puck."

"Oh my gosh, you guys. Puckleberry is my favorite. It's like a delicious sundae that doesn't have animal parts but still tastes like heaven. And it's the only thing stopping world war three and the monkey virus that killed all those people in the Dustin Hoffman movie. I love Puckleberry. Everyone should, really. Or God will strike you down and make you look really, really stupid."

Puck grinned in spite of himself and Mike finally pulled himself off of the floor and gave his friend a high-five. Artie held up his hands with a confident dose of swagger, his right hand forming a P, and his left hand forming a B, and Brittany returned the hand gesture and cooed, "Oh my gosh, Artie, you know the international sign for Puckleberry! I love you. Let's visit that closet after practice."

"Brittany?" Rachel questioned. "Uhm…"

"Rupaul, what are the chances you can just relax and go with this epic shiz?" Santana demanded gruffly.

"Well, I'm uncertain of-"

"PUCK, really, shouldn't you be doing something right now?" Santana demanded. "I hope it involves less of Berry's gums flapping."

"Let's go, Berry. I'll drive you home," Puck said gruffly, his grin still simmering just below the surface of his smirk. He waggled his eyebrows at Santana and Brittany as he put a hand on the small of a still very confused Rachel's back as he lead her out of the room.

"Okay, where's the book, we have to figure out how much money Mamma just made," Santana grinned wickedly. She arched one perfect brow at an annoyed Finn. "Mamma does need to take a very special boy to Breadsticks…"

"Finntana is really yummy pizza…"


	12. Chapter 12

For livelaughlurve3's prompt on the meme. Too tired. Stayed up too late. Have no idea what I just wrote. I apologize for all the errors. I'm trying to get through to some progress on Fuickleberry, I promise. But I get distracted easily.

* * *

"What in the ever loving hell are you doing, Puck?"

"Lauren is new here. I'm being like, super fucking helpful," Puck scoffed in Santana's direction.

Santana managed one half of a devastatingly annoyed eyeroll before she stopped abruptly at the sound of snickering. Someone in the choir room was snickering. And it was directed at HER, Santana Mother-Effing Lopez. That shiz does not fly. Santana glared about, expecting it to be Wheezy or even Q, but instead, Rachel Berry was holding a hand to her mouth, laughing into it. Laughing to herself and it was _clearly_ about what Puck had just said.

"EXCUSE ME MAN-HANDS? Are you _laughing_ at me?" Santana grumbled lowly, her voice harsh and gravelly, making eight people in the room tense immediately. Lauren looked on appreciatively, hoping at least for a good show. Puck was playing with his little machine, although his eyebrow raised and his lips turned into a slight smirk. And Rachel only laughed LOUDER. "What the fuck ever Rupaul…have you finally gone completely batshit crazy?"

"I am laughing, Santana, because Noah said he was being helpful. The thought errantly occurred to me that you were probably incredibly confused, seeing as you wouldn't know helpful if it came running up to you, straightened out your woefully displaced ponytail, and then smacked you on your astonishing flat and dull rear end,"

Santana's jaw dropped and now both Lauren and Puck were snickering too. AT HER. She felt her blood pressure rise and leveled a hard and cold look at Rachel, a look that clearly told her that Rachel Berry was not long for the world of the living. Rachel seemed non-plussed and shrugged and asked, "Too many big words? Do you want me to write it down for you so that you can work it through with Finn and your dictionary app's later?"

"You DID NOT, call my ass-"

"Oh surprisingly enough, I do believe I did. You see, when I first learnt that your last name was Lopez, my thoughts immediately went to the shining star of …perhaps you were related, but when I met you and you walked away from me for the very first time, it became astonishingly clear that you were in no way related," Rachel blithely explained.

"I'm going to kick your-"

"Labels are done!" Puck announced joyfully. He brought all the attention back to himself as he meandered around the room, placing labels randomly on inanimate objects and people. "Yo, Ziz. This be Tinkles. We don't touch him."

The pianist simply shrugged as Puck placed his label on his shoulder. The young man went to put a label on the piano and Brad simply held up a hand and gave Puck a withering look. The young man shrugged and put the piano's label on "Tinkles" as well. He turned on his heel and handed Artie his label, "This be Wheels. Kids cool as shit and his mom makes dope ass waffles."

"I like waffles," Lauren nodded appreciatively.

Puck labeled everything and everyone, clearly loving the digital labeler he had "found" and "liberated" from Mrs. Ex-Scheuster's desk at Sheet's and Things. He labeled Finn, _Dopey_. Tina was _Gothy Doc_ and he even dared to label Mercedes _Grumpy_.

"Old baby mama," Puck handed Quinn her helpful label, and she looked annoyed until he handed Sam one stating, "Old Baby Mama Handler."

"And Ziz, this is the most important label of all. Beware, for only Rachel Berry Balls of Steel can deal with whats about to get labeled," Puck advised with another hearty snicker. He stuck the label on Satana's forehead and grinned. "Satan."

"Fuck you Puckerman!" Santana hissed. She glared down at Rachel, who hadn't flinched or backed down one inch since epically smacking her down. She couldn't help but begrudgingly shrug at the girl. She appreciated a girl who could handle herself. But if Rachel kept this up, there would be some serious girl-fighting. And perhaps during the girl fight there would be a peek of ass grabbing. Certainly she would get to touch her boobs before Puckerman did.

Rachel looked at Puck curiously and asked, "Where's my label?"

"Babe, you don't need a label. You're Rachel God Damn Berry. Ziz knows. Everyone knows," Puck grinned at her wickedly as he patted her back.

Santana arched a brow and wondered if she should say something at that point. She shrugged as she looked at the label that Puck had placed on Rachel's back. If the girl could go toe to toe in a verbal spar with her, then she could deal with her Puck Label. Schue came in at that point and Puck placed a label on him as he clasped him on the shoulder.

"We're ready to work, Schue. Totally going to kick boy school ass and Vocal Crap-drenaline ass."

Santana laughed when she saw Schue's label of _Asshat_. She smirked at her former FWB and couldn't help but watch with interest as they choreographed another number, that was when Finn wasn't stomping on her toes. Rachel's toes weren't being stomped on, because Puck was currently holding her a little too close during some of the choreography. Santana nearly lost her mind to laughing hysteria when Mike went to switch up the choreography and dance with Rachel for a change, then backed off immediately after reading a few choice words on Rachel's lower back.

"Michael?" Rachel wondered curiously.

"Sorry…you're too good. We should really uhm-" Mike looked at Puck warily over Rachel's head and his face screwed up at the menacing scowl on his friends face. "We should distribute the talent evenly. Puck's better than Finn, but still…a shit dancer."

"Yeah, I suck," Puck insisted.

"I suck too!" Sam insisted, going towards Rachel almost eagerly. "Seriously, I'm making Quinn look bad. How did you teach Puck that thing with the ball and chain or whatever?"

Rachel smiled eagerly and went through the demonstration again, while Mike covertly pointed out the small of her back to Sam. She finished twirling and looked to Sam to see if he had gotten it, only to see that he had bolted back to Quinn on the other side of the room. She frowned when Finn took his place sheepishly and said, "Can you do that again, I didn't really-"

His words faltered as he too saw the words that Puck had placed on Rachel's back. He frowned deeply and looked to Puck with serious questions in his eyes. Puck shrugged, and Finn could only shrug in response. Santana rolled her eyes and grabbed Finn's hand, dragging him out of the room while promising, "We have to go to the Nurse, I think Finn broke my big toe…"

Rachel shrugged her shoulders and accepted Puck back as her dance partner for the rest of the practice. Schue found his asshat sticker and called practice to an abrupt halt, releasing them a half hour earlier than expected. The Glee Club meandered through the school to their lockers, surprised to see various sports team members and other extra-curricular students still at the school. Rachel furrowed her brow every time she felt someone slowing as they walked behind her and then quickly sped up to get away from her.

"Rachel, my sweet, I was hoping to get an exclusive from you now that you're a month and five days out from your breakup with Finn. I was hoping that we could have said exclusive in my pants," Jacob Ben-Israel breathily spewed out his disgusting request as he sped up from his hiding place down the hall, catching up with her and walking just behind her as she began to speedily walk away. "It's only fair…the people have a right to know how you feel…and I have a right to know how you feel in my pants…"

"You are VILE," Rachel hissed, walking even faster.

"BUT…I'd be an excellent rebound"! Jacob promised. "I could make you-"

His words were abruptly cut off and Rachel didn't feel like particularly curious as to why, she was simply glad that he had shut up. She quickly went to her locker, eager to get her things to go home when she furrowed her brow at Santana leaning against the locker next to hers. They simultaneously rolled their eyes at each other and Rachel was the first to speak,

"I'm not afraid of you, and I'll have you know, I was doing advanced levels of Tae-bo by the time I was four."

"Stuff it, treasure trail. You're one overly worded diatribe away from me spanking your naughty ass. And believe what you want, but I don't really make it a habit of spanking other people's property," Santana sneered back at her playfully. "Unless we can get your owner to agree to join in. And BELIEVE me. He would. Like…yesterday already."

"I belong to no one!" Rachel scoffed at her nemesis/team member.

"What's up mini-skirt? Gonna bend over at your locker today?" Azimio bellowed from across the hall. He walked up with four other football players, eager to get in one more round of fun torture before heading home. "Girl on girl action. Yes please, ladies, Ellen it up for me."

"Back off receding hairline," Santana growled as Rachel turned in a huff towards her locker. She pointed to Rachel's label and demanded, "Didn't hooked on ebonics work for you?"

"Oh shit. No way," Azimio chuckled in surprise and impressed amazement after taking a long few seconds to sound out the letters in his head. "Respect. Gotta love the short skirt. Especially all wet and covered in slushie on white t-shirt day."

"What on EARTH was he talking about? Was that even English?" Rachel demanded huffily. She watched as a few hockey players slowed behind her and then scurried off. "WHAT IS GOING ON?"

"Sup Satan. You harassing the midget? That ain't cool," Puck drawled as he came to a stop behind a fuming Rachel, admiring the view.

"No, just making sure people take the time to read the sign," Santana glowered at him with mock helpfulness. "Glad I could help you out with the whole Finn deal, Puckerman."

"Whatevs," Puck shrugged as Santana took her leave. He smirked down at Rachel and held out his arm, "Want a lift home?"

"Sure," Rachel smiled softly back at him.

Four hours later, Puck answered his ringing cell phone with a leisurely grin, not even bothering to look at the caller id. "Yo Midget. You want me to come over and help you take a bath or something?"

"NOAH PUCKERMAN!" Rachel bellowed over the phone. "What is the meaning of this label on the back of my sweater. Why on earth would you label me **_Puck's. Touch and DIE_**?"

"Shit baby, relax," Puck said smoothly. "Those fuckers have to know what's what. I'm doing them a favor."


	13. Chapter 13

Seriously Writers Block can suck it. I have defeated it thoroughly. Those that have caught my newest insane attempt at a story, I will be updating Misfit Toy Hero Squad sometime this evening. And if you haven't caught that story yet? I'd love you forever if you gave it a shot.

This is the prompt from the puckrachel drabble meme. Nicoline88's "First time lil Rachel gets her rag, she's at Puck's house and he thinks she's dying." heh. Funny.

* * *

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY BATHROOM DAMMIT!"

The harsh shout was punctuated as the pubescent male voice cracked humorously. Rachel Berry wasn't laughing however, as she fretted on the other side of the bathroom door.

"Go to HADES Noah Puckerman!" Rachel growled.

"God, you demonic ballerina Barbie doll! You can't even say the real word! It's HELL, Rachel," Noah asserted. "As in get the HELL out of my bathroom!"

"You don't pay the mortgage, your mother does!" Rachel reminded the nearly fourteen year old boy. "Find another bathroom and leave me the HECK alone!"

"That's beside the point, it's MY damned bathroom, so get out, I need it," Noah said resolutely, slamming his fist against the door.

"I'm NOT coming out of the bathroom, get used to it!" Rachel yelled back at the door, trying to ignore Noah' forceful pounding.

From her seat on the commode, she looked into the mirror on the sink counter, trying to recognize the teenager looking back at her. She didn't look any different than she had that morning, but something was VERY different about her now. She cringed as she felt a slight cramping twinge radiate through her lower body. It even made her legs ache. Her eyes fell to the crotch of her white cotton underpants, soaked red with blood. A pained pout crossed her pretty face as she leaned her elbows on her knees and buried her head in her hands. "Stupid puberty," she grumbled.

Of course her first period had to happen the day her fathers had dropped her off at the Puckerman's due to their twentieth anniversary trip. It was kind of Mrs. Puckerman, really, seeing as none of the other families from the synagogue were too friendly with her two very gay dads. She could have survived the horror of staying with Noah quite well under normal circumstances. However, if Noah found her BLEEDING in his bathroom…there was no way she would ever be able to look him in the face again.

It absolutely stupefied Rachel that her fathers and his mother couldn't figure out that she and Noah were no longer the inseparable duo that they had been in the past. Things had changed drastically in the past year, and Noah seemed to hate the sight of her now. She would literally give anything in order to be able to go back in time and play house with him when they were eight. Even that session of playing doctor at twelve would be preferable to the current horrendous situation she was currently stuck in.

But here she was, stuck in Noah' bedroom bathroom as the harsh wave of her very first menstruation crashed over her.

"What in the hell is wrong with you?" Noah demanded. "Diarrhea…constipation?"

"GOD! Noah, you are so disgusting!" Rachel screamed. "Annoying me isn't going to make me come out of here any sooner. Just...GO AWAY!"

"What are you doing?" he wondered, true curiosity leaking into his voice. "Did you fall down and now you can't get up? Do I need to call an ambulance or something?"

"NO, geez, Noah, just leave me alone! PLEASE?" Rachel begged, the hint of tears saturating her voice.

Noah felt a pang of sympathy run through him for his (former) (best) friend. He hated to think that she was crying in there. He could see the tears welling up in her perfect, gigantic brown eyes, her pretty, pouty bottom lip trembling. He quickly shook those images from his brain. "Don't cry," he mumbled sheepishly. "Just tell me what's wrong with you, and I'll try to help."

"Nothing is wrong with me, why does something have to be wrong with me because I'm holed up in your bathroom? Maybe I just like your bathroom and want to appreciate its true beauty through form and function," Rachel babbled at light speed, making Noah' head spin.

"YOU BETTER NOT BE GOING THROUGH MY STUFF!" he growled irrately.

"GO TO HELL!" Rachel growled right back.

"What? No 'H...E...Double Hockey Sticks' this time?" he mocked. "I can unlock this door you know!" Noah insisted. "You were there when your Uncle Charlie taught me how to pick locks, for Christ's sake!"

Her eyes grew wide with dread. "Don't you dare, Noah, I swear, I will find something to bludgeon you with if you open that door!"

"God, what are you doing, reciting lines from a cheap paperback novel?" Noah muttered as he dropped to his knees and started to work at the lock. "I'll pick you up and throw you out of my damned bathroom if I have to."

Rachel panicked, staring down at her soiled clothes. Her khaki capri pants were stained through as well. She rose from her seat, flushed the toilet quickly, pulled up her clothing, grabbed Noah's bathrobe from the wall hook, and threw the large garment on.

She drowned in the robe and wondered absently when Noah had found the time to grow so much. When the door popped open she stopped wondering about Noah' growth spurts and started spurting loud piercing screams instead.

"STOP IT!" Noah covered his ears until she finished her insane shrieking. "What are you doing wearing my robe?" he demanded, baffled as to what she'd been up to in here for so long.

"Noah, didn't you learn to SHARE in kindergarten?" Rachel patronized impatiently.

"I'm not going to share anything with you, Little Miss Annie Get Your Gun!" Noah grumbled. "So take it off!"

"NO," she said resolutely, securing the belt a little tighter.

"I SAID, TAKE IT OFF!" he shouted.

Rachel stepped closer to Noah and grabbed him by his shirt collar, looking up at him menacingly. "If you think that by grumbling and growling at me you're going to get me to do ANYTHING you want, you are SADLY mistaken, you little brat, I will rip you apart and eat you for breakfast if you don't leave me alone RIGHT NOW!"

Noah was stunned for a moment, before shaking his head slowly and asking, "Geez, are you on the rag or what?"

Rachel let go of his collar quickly and turned away from him, her cheeks immediately turning scarlet. Noah was startled by her rapid change in mood and suddenly realized what was happening, and why she wouldn't take off his bathrobe. He shuffled, his discomfort rising as he stammered, "Do…do you want me to…I don't know, uhm... What…ah, what do you…"

"GOD, Noah, you're more uncomfortable than I am, aren't you?" Rachel accused as she turned back to him, slight amusement on her face. She watched as his eyes kept roaming over the robe. He was probably worried she'd leave a mark on it. "It's not exactly a gunshot wound, don't worry, I'm not going to ruin your precious bathrobe," she huffed.

Noah snapped out of his ogling daze and met her angry blue eyes. "No, I just..." he shrugged. "It's gross, you know, to think that you're...bleeding," he wrinkled his nose.

"Gee, thanks, but I really don't need your observations on the ickiness factor at the moment. If you truly want to help me out, I could use something right about now…a feminine product, if you know what I mean. And since I'm not leaving your bathroom, that only leaves one other person to go find one for me."

"Me?" Noah's hazel eyes widened with incomprehension. He shrugged off his bewilderment under her persistent, threatening gaze and nodded. "Okay, okay, I'll be right back."

Rachel sighed with relief once he left. At the same time she cringed in horror, completely mortified that she had to share this particular moment in her life with that insufferable boy. She wouldn't have cared so much if it was her friend Noah, not this hormonally challenged, inconsiderate, brash, obnoxious, pushy, inattentive teenager who was far removed from the cohort she cherished two years ago.

Noah returned after a little while, his cheeks flaming red, seeming almost shy as he tapped lightly on the door and entered the bathroom. He asked quietly, "Are you okay?"

"It's my PERIOD Noah, there aren't many things that can go wrong," Rachel informed him. "I'm not dying here!" Unless you could die of extreme embarrassment, she silently judged, rolling her eyes. "We went over this in Health class, remember? In five to seven days I'll have completely discharged the lining of my womb, and then I'll be back to normal again," she relayed, appreciating the fact that she just grossed him out even more. She looked to him expectantly, wondering where in the world her 'help' was. "Did you get me anything?" she asked impatiently.

"Oh, yeah," he shrugged, pulling something out of his pocket delicately. He handed her the product, which he'd concealed in a nest of toilet paper and said, "It's all I could find…"

Rachel looked down at the package after she tossed away the toilet paper. The plastic wrapped little product didn't look like what she was hoping for. She opened it curiously and demanded, "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Noah shrugged and blushed violently. "I don't…I mean, you don't know? I think you…uhm, you're supposed to uhhh…."

Rachel dropped the tampon like it was a hot coal and shook her head adamantly. "Uh-uh. NO WAY. There's no way I'm using that, NO, NO, NO, find me something else!"

"There ISN'T anything else!" Noah insisted. "I looked, I swear, I'm sorry but I can't find anything else. That's going to have to be good enough!"

"Well it's NOT!" Rachel concluded. She wrapped the robe tighter around her and grabbed Noah' hand, dragging him towards the door.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"You're going down to the Walgreens and buying me SOMETHING ELSE!" Rachel growled.

"I'm not going nowhere! And I'm definitely not buying that…that SHIT!" Noah wailed, his voice cracking again as Rachel shoved him out of the bathroom. "RACHEL!" he pounded on the closed door desperately, but finally gave up, knowing he couldn't reason with her.

He released a roaring sigh as he stormed from his bedroom, heading downstairs to run to the Walgreens, looking for some help with his very first period.


	14. Chapter 14

Rachel rushed down the empty hallways of McKinley High, her fists clenched around as much of the heavy fabric of her skirt as she could. She had just made a quick costume change after her Black Student Union Club yearbook picture and had approximately 2 and a half minutes to get to the parking lot where the Renaissance Club picture would be taken. Her idea of course. The green foilage of the trees would certainly make the burgandy fabric of her dress pop.

Her lovely and exquisite dress. Her Daddy had really gone all out this year, bringing home a a dress from a New York City costume house for their Renaissance activities of the season. She didn't dare think of how much the intricate costume cost. It certainly felt expensive. She would definitely be the center of attention for this particular year book picture. As it should be. For EVERY yearbook picture.

"Eeepp!" she squeaked as she rounded a corner, nearly running into a solid wall of red lettermen jacket. She looked up anxiously and began an earnest apology, "I really do apologize for my heedless running through the halls...it's just that I'm going to be late for a very important picture...oh."

Noah Puckerman managed to lift one perfect eyebrow as he stared down at Rachel Berry in the most intricate princess dress he had ever seen in his life. It looked like it weighed eighty pounds and had frills and chords and some sort of hoop skirt underneath it. It looked like it could take a well-intentioned guy hours to strip it off of her. He frowned unintentionally, knowing that whatever douchebag she had to do the job, HE would have gotten her out of it faster.

Rachel took his frown as a bad sign and she looked down at the slushy he held in his hand. She bit her lip and said softly, "Noah, I would literally do ANYTHING for you not to ruin my outfit this afternoon with that horrendous beverage."

"Don't like the Coke flavor?" he wondered.

"It's not that...it's just...please?" she begged, her cheeks staining pink under the effort of begging. She despised having to ask this Neanderthal for an ounce of mercy, but it had to be done. Coca Cola slushie would NOT go with her ensemble.

"You'd do ANYTHING?" Puck's frown disappeared and was replaced with a lecherous smirk. "Like anything, anything? Cause...I kind of like the look, Princess."

Rachel's mouth opened slightly in shock, her eyes slowly lifting and zeroing in on Puck's own. She expected to see mocking. She felt the flush on her cheeks deepen and drift down her neck at what she did see. It wasn't mocking. It wasn't annoyance. Was it...wanting?

"PUCKERMAN! You're going to be late if you don't get your keister in uniform, now!" Coach Tanaka yelled down the hallway.

Whatever spell Rachel had held over him immediately broke and his eyes were annoyed and angry once again. He shrugged at her and said, "You owe me one, Princess."

Rachel blinked at her tormentor curiously before watching him meander down the hall. A flash of burgandy caught her eye at the end of the hall and she saw that awful Melissa Wingenroth heading towards the club's assigned meeting spot. Her focus resharpened and she sped off once more, determined to be the main attraction of the Renaissance Club's yearbook photo.

* * *

Just a short little something I wrote for Sharna due to a tag she put on a photoset on tumblr. : )


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